


Assassin

by Chrisinele_hime



Series: Assassin [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Assassin Castiel, Bottom Dean, Dom and Top are not synonymous, Drama, F/M, Fic based on a song, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mission Gone Wrong, Organized Crime, Power Bottom Castiel, Pregnant Jess, Romance, Spy Dean, Suspense, Switching, Top Castiel, Top Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-31
Updated: 2014-07-31
Packaged: 2018-02-11 04:32:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2053725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chrisinele_hime/pseuds/Chrisinele_hime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is a spy sent to Syria to thwart Crowley's plan for jump starting WWIII. His mission is to stop the assassin Castiel from detonating a bomb at a convention being held for the Syrian elite. What was supposed to be a one time, meaningless tryst turns into a story more complicated than Dean bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Assassin

**Author's Note:**

> Dean is 34 and Castiel is 37 in this story. I just want to note that I usually avoid even READING first person fics, but...the intro was begging to be written this way, the rest of story is written in 3rd person limited omniscient. The tag about Dom and Top up there I totally stole from some genius out there. You darlings have no idea how long I've been working on this beauty, though. Like, no earthly idea. 0.0

Let's just get right down to it then, shall we? Here I am: Dean Winchester: international bad ass and spy extraordinaire. Been serving my country from behind the scenes almost from the moment I finished serving the very same country on the front lines. Seems like I caught the eyes of all the right people...with all the right secrets. Whether it's to keep them or destroy them ain't up to me. Above my pay grade to question so to speak. But I gotta say, I do have a talent for getting myself through any barrier; be it electronic, female, male. Doesn't matter. And today is no different. I just arrived in Syria a few hours ago. In friggin' Damascus at that! (I'll get to why I'm here in a minute. Bear with me.)

One of the perks of the job is all the gadgets I get to carry and snuffing out the bad guys. Kinda like James Bond but, you know, American. And sexier. But the main perk, the perk that makes it just that much more bearable, is all the mindless fucking I get to do. Granted, I don't always get the prettiest of targets (or youngest either) but they're just a means to an end. Whether it's an end to their life or object they're using to exploit the world doesn't matter either. The important thing is that I get my rocks off to it and I have a damn good time doing it, too.

Now, to my motivation: my brother, Sam.

Sammy is the only thing keeping me sane most days. (He always manages to call just about the time I'm starting to get down on myself.) You could even go so far as to say that my little brother is the only reason I even get up in the mornings anymore. I want to make sure that this world is a better place for him, his wife, Jess, and the little niece on the way in two months. And boy, is she gonna get spoiled! Speaking of which, I should get her a souvenir while I'm here, gotta get started some time. She's gonna have her daddy and her uncle at her beck and call; twisted 'round her chubby little finger, and there ain't shit we can do about it. Fact of life. Little Mary Winchester is gonna be the most spoiled princess in the world. Write it down, you're gonna need to know it for that standardized test at the end of the school year. You're welcome.

And onto the thing that will probably be the death of me: my car.

I don't go anywhere my girl ain't allowed to follow me because things always fall to shit when she isn't there as backup. Yeah, it's not the most responsible thing to do since she's so recognizable, but most of the people that have had the good fortune of meeting her are currently six feet under or what have you. Had a few places I needed to blow up! Don't judge me. I've even had to rebuild her a few times from the ground up when a mission went bad, but it's all worth it when I see her gleamin' and roarin' away from trouble. She and I are inseparable.

Now, I think it's about time I tell you what I'm doing here in Syria of all places, don't you?

I'm assuming most of you have heard at the very least that Syria has been in the toilet the past couple of years, right? Well, someone's here to make shit worse. A rogue Scottish crime lord named Fergus "Crowley" McLeod. Son of a bitch thinks if he upsets the balance here a little more that he can jump start World War III. Which, to anyone that pays attention, war is great for business. Dude's just looking to make a quick a buck which, normally, I wouldn't bat my eyelashes at, but this is going to be at the expense of millions of innocent lives, and I can't have that sitting on my conscience.

Sucks to be you, Crowley, Dean Winchester has arrived to rip you a new one.

I'm just now settling into the hotel and I gotta tell ya, it's one of the best looking places I've stayed. I mean, it's got the best of the modern and ancient everywhere. There's a calculated beauty to the Arab world that is awe-inspiring, but it's too bad I won't have enough time to explore the city much. I've gotta be outta here by 11 am tomorrow. How about I give you the low-down so that you can keep up? Oh man, I just found the prettiest little bracelet for my girl! _Damn_. I'm already whipped.

**24 hours ago**

_"Dean, I need to see you in my office. ASAP," came the gruff voice of Dean's boss through the speaker of the phone on his desk._

_He sighed as he threw his pen down and made his way to Bobby's office. Dean loves the guy, but, seriously, it's like an hour before he has to leave for home and the only reason he ever gets called in to see his boss is when he's going to get sent somewhere and he is so not in the mood. Dean is supposed to be going to see Sam and Jess to help plan the baby shower. He traipses into the office with annoyance evident on his face._

_"Boy, don't you come in here with that look. I'll blow it off your face quicker'n'you can blink. Show me you can be a professional and we'll get goin' with this meetin'," the man growled. Oh goody, he's in Dean's favorite mood: crotchety-old-grouch._

_Dean's boss has never spoken to him like that in all the years they've known each other. (Actually, he's lying. Bobby always talks like that, but Dean can tell there's something different this time.) And since he asked so nice, the spy has decided to go ahead and comply with him._

_"Alright, Bobby, I'm sorry, man. What's the sitch?"_

_"What in the hell is a 'sitch?'" he asked gruffly._

_"Sitch. Situation." He watches a lot of television, so what? Kim Possible was one bad ass bitch. Plus, there are only so many channels at his disposal since he moves around a lot._

_"You're too old to be doin' that, son," Bobby grumbled._

_"Yeah...I know. This can't be what you called me in for," Dean replied reflexively._

_Bobby heaved a great sigh and leaned back in his chair with a tired look to his face. "No. No, it ain't," he breathed in a shaky breath that he held for a moment before leaning forward again and looking Dean in the eyes. "Dean, I'm about to ask something from you that I really wish I didn't have to."_

_When he didn't continue Dean stated, "You gonna tell me, or what? I gotta get home eventually."_

_Bobby rolls his eyes in annoyance before he lays down the news, "Well, that's what I'm gettin' at, boy. You ain't goin' home tonight. We just got some news about some shit that's goin' to go down in Syria."_

_"Uh, Bobby, in case you haven't heard, shit's_ already _going down in Syria."_

 _Bobby glares at his subordinate and Dean starts to remember why he should keep his mouth in check. "No shit, Sherlock. I'm talking about the shit nobody knows about yet, ya idgit." Bobby takes another breath before continuing, "You know that guy Crowley we've been monitoring in the UK? Turns out the dick is planting one of his operatives in Syria to bring it to hell...well,_ worse _hell."_

_"What do we know?" Dean rubs his temples to ease the headache that he can feel coming on. Going over the intel he already aware of, he knows that so far the smarmy ass has been keeping things fairly small and contained in the UK, and now he wants to spread worse chaos? This is going to be one of those missions, he just knows it._

_"We know that there's a convention going on in Damascus, a benefit for the elite to splurge on some new scientific advancement, but that's all a load of crap according to Benny and Balthazar's recon from last week. The host, Ishtar Safra, is just looking to gather all of his enemies in one place...probably to get rid of them all, and Crowley's agent is supposed to see the host to deliver a message. We're pretty sure Crowley wants to supply Ishtar and his cause with weapons so he can make money. The host is double crossing a lot of people in the government so he's totally Crowley's type. In fact, we think he wants this war even more than Crowley does."_

_Dean sat in silence for a moment as he processed the information just given to his. The more he ponders, the more confused he becomes so he asks for some clarification. "If it's just a messenger, why are you sending me? Messengers are usually small, ordinary looking dudes so they don't catch anyone's attention. You could send_ Garth _to take care of it. Dude's tiny as all hell, he can squeeze through just about anything."_

_Bobby leans back in his chair again and rubs his temple._

_See, Dean is getting worried right about now. If Bobby is getting a headache over this shit then it's gotta be serious._ Fuck _._

_"That's just it, Dean," he starts. "He didn't send a regular, run-of-the-mill messenger. He sent his elite; an assassin by the name of Castiel. Angel he may be named after, but fluffy little chubby dude he ain't. He definitely qualifies under Harbinger of God's Wrath not Cherub, in my book. I'm thinking he's there to send a literal and figurative message. The worst thing is we don't know what the hell he's going to do, so we're giving you enough gadgets to cover the basics. If we had more time, we'd equip you better."_

_"I'm guessing I don't have a choice here, do I?" Dean sighed._

_"No. He's sent his best so I've got no choice but to send my best."_

_"Aww, well look-ee there. And here I thought I wasn't appreciated," he smirks. Anything to lighten up the mood._

_"You're an ass."_

_"I think I'm adorable," he smiled_.

_"Whatever. Idgit." Bobby takes a second to rummage through the stack of files on his desk before handing one to Dean. It was a pretty thick one, too. "That there is the file we have on Castiel, and everything we know he did, but can't seem to actually point back to him."_

_"Holy shit, Bobby, there has got to be at least 100 reports in here! How long's he been working for Crowley?!" Dean honestly doesn't know whether to be appalled or impressed._

_"Actually, before Crowley, he was an assassin for hire. If you needed someone taken care of, he was your guy. Family business or whatnot. He wasn't exclusive until a few years ago. We're not sure what dirt Crowley has on Castiel, but it has to be HUGE if he hasn't turned on his boss yet. That Scottish slime ball has always held the best cards in the deck. Especially whenever everyone else is losin' cards."_

_Fuck. Just his luck. "What can you tell me about him before I dive into reading these reports?"_

_"We're pretty sure Castiel has been doing this stuff since he was 12...but we don't know all of the circumstances. The one guy we've got that knew Castiel wasn't privy to all the goings-on in that household. What we do know is that the guy has never failed a mission. Not once. That's 25 years of impeccable service, Dean. You've only been at this for 10 and you've got a couple failures under your belt. I ain't tryin' ta put you down...I'm just tryin' to give you a feel for what you're up against."_

_"Well, thanks, Bobby," he replies sarcastically._

_"I'm just sayin', boy, Death probably checks his closet for this kid."_

_"I GET IT, BOBBY. SHEESH."_

_Dean took a minute to flip through the file in his hands and he can't help but be filled with both awe and fear. This guy, Castiel, preferred to use weapons (any, really) but that didn't mean he couldn't dismantle a body with his bare hands. If he weren't a target for the agency, he'd be a target for the spy's bed. Dude seems like he doesn't know what gentle is, and Dean would definitely love to experience that first hand. The eldest Winchester had to suppress a shiver at where his thoughts had taken him. Bobby doesn't need to know what turns him on. Actually...wait a minute..._

_"Bobby...why is the only picture we have of him blurry as all hell?" He can hardly make out what appears to be a tan trench coat and dark slacks. His head is turned to Dean's left, but it's hard to make out the features other than the obvious._

_"We're lucky we even have THAT, son. Castiel has done a lot of high profile shit, and everything is always hush-hush so any pictures that might be out there of him are constantly flushed off the internet and news. He is the face of secrecy, hence why no one is exactly sure what his face looks like."_

_"I thought you said we know a guy that knows him! Couldn't you have asked him to talk to a sketch artist?"_

_"Do I look stupid to you, idgit? The last time our informant saw Castiel was when they were brats hardly starting puberty. There was no point in getting a sketch." Ok, Dean kind of had that outburst coming. He knows Bobby isn't stupid._

_"Damn, Bobby, we've never dealt with someone this faceless," he spoke. "I mean, we've taken out some pretty big people but no one like this. He's some sort of anomaly." This guy is getting more and more interesting by the moment. Dean can see from the picture that he's a little tanned and has dark hair and some serious stubble. Not much to go on considering where he is going is full of tanned, dark haired people. Damn, he's got his work cut out for him this time. There's no room for error, this guy is the best of the best and who knows what Castiel would do if he ever caught onto Dean._

_"It's an anomaly that we even have that picture, Dean. Study that as best you can and try to follow anyone that even remotely looks like him." Bobby cleared his throat before breaking the silence once more, "You're booked to leave in three hours. Gives you enough time to pack a quick bag and head on out to the airport. The only other thing I have to tell you is that Baby can't go with you this time. Castiel is THAT good, son, he'll know that car backwards and forwards. Plus, there wasn't enough time to plan ahead for this one. She'd get there a few days after you'd get back."_

_"Aw, c'mon! You know she and I have separation anxiety!"_

_"No, YOU have separation anxiety and Castiel probably knows 7 ways to kill you using just the Legos stuck in the heating duct. You're good, but you ain't that good."_

_"Dammit! Well, get me something black. And American." Shit_ never _goes his way_.

**Present**

Dean spares a moment to appreciate the room the agency has seen fit to give him. He lays down his overnight bag at the foot of the bed and places his briefcase next to him as he sits on the edge. He quickly opens the briefcase and moves around the items he rationalizes are necessary for his cover. Speaking of which...he really should get to reading the file on this case. It doesn't matter how many times he has had to get on a plane for his career, it is still his least favorite thing to do. He finally gave into his sleeping pills about an hour into the flight and was out like a light for most of the trip. The remaining time on the plane was spent methodically not thinking about being on a plane.

Opening the secret compartment at the bottom of the briefcase brings the manila folder into view. Dean flips it open and begins to read all the details inside. He can't help but sigh in frustration the longer he reads the file. His cover, for the most part, is the usual: _Find host. Proceed to fan girl. Seduce. (Host has American male fetish.) Acquire mystery weapon. Dismantle. Avoid Castiel if at all possible._ Those are literally the words that Bobby used. Way to be precise. Well, no time like the present he supposes.

Dean spends the next few hours looking at floor plans of the hotel and memorizing any escape routes he may need to use as well as any fire alarms he may need to pull in case of an emergency. They still have no idea what kind of message it is that Castiel will be sending. Will he do a demonstration of the weapons that Crowley will be providing? Will he plant a bomb and get rid of all the elite, Ishtar included, so that Crowley can instead fund the opposing group? Will he try to get other countries caught in the cross hairs? There's really no telling how tonight will go and Dean has to be prepared for anything.

The hours slowly trickle by and Dean finds himself getting more and more anxious and he starts to wish that he could call Sam one last time but thinks better of it. If someone were to get a hold of the burner phone he is currently using and they somehow found out about Sammy and something happened, Dean wouldn't know what to do with himself. His little brother has his whole life ahead of him and Dean will be damned to Hell before he does anything to jeopardize the apple pie life that Sam has been destined for since the moment he was born. To clear his mind a little, he goes to shower away his anxiety and contemplates his life so far as he usually does right before a mission. He likes to remind himself that he was made for this job and that he would do it all over again if given a second chance at life.

xvx

_Dean still remembers growing up and all the hardships they had to endure at the sometimes absent hands of their father. It's not that their father didn't care about them or treated them wrong in any way, but he was a single father trying his damnedest to provide for two growing boys, and it got tough trying to make ends meet. John had to work several jobs in order to make good enough money to put food on the table, and a lot of the time those jobs took them across the country. The sedentary life wasn't theirs; house to house (they had no concept of home) and school to school. Sam hated every minute of it, and it was all Dean could do to try to keep his brother and his father from tearing their family apart. Sammy and Dad were too alike and were constantly at each other's throats, so when it came time for college, Sam ran off to chase that life he knew would be his if he worked hard enough. That day will always be the eldest Winchester's worst memory. Sam wasn't there to see the mess their father became at Sam's absence; he was spared the trauma of seeing the pillar of their childhood crumbling before him. John Winchester deteriorated before Dean's eyes. The sad thing was that Sam didn't realize until it was too late, and they didn't have much of a chance to fix their relationship. Dean can't fault his little brother for wanting to chase his dreams, but Dean wishes that he could have been spared the aftermath. Dean doesn't hold it against him, though. Not anymore at least._

_It was during that time that Dean had decided to join the Marines like his father had and joined the Special Operations team. (a/n: I know that Sp Ops wasn't created until 2004 and it doesn't coincide with the timeline of my story, but...I need it this way) It took months of rigorous training, but it was all worth it in the end. He felt like he had a purpose in life again, and it was to serve his country and make it a better place for his family._

_He didn't hear the news about his father being in the hospital until it was too late._

_Dean would have gladly switched places with his father just so that John and Sam could have all the time they needed to reconcile._

_It wasn't until after their father passed that the doctors told the boys that their father had been diagnosed with cancer a few years back, around the time that Sam took off for school, and that he had been seeking treatment in secret. After learning the news, the boys finally understood John's obsession with keeping them close. Sam seemed to take it the hardest. If their father had simply stated what was going on with him, they could have fixed this mess before it ever happened. Instead, he wallowed in his seclusion and allowed the disease to eat him from the inside out. This could have only been magnified by Sam's abandonment. It was many years before the youngest Winchester was able to forgive himself._

_The boys found comfort in each other during the funeral and made a pact to do better in their relationship with each other. Dean was introduced to his future sister-in-law, and the siblings made sure to make time for each other. Dean went back to his Special Ops dealings overseas, and it was there that he caught the eyes of another agency._

_Dean was on a particularly difficult covert mission in which he and several other members of his team barely escaped with their lives. It was then that Dean was once again faced with his mortality and he realized he wanted to be closer to home. After withdrawing from the Armed Forces, Dean made his way back to Kansas to live in his home town while Sam and Jess were still attending school in California. He wanted to make sure that they had a home to come back to when they were ready. After a few months of the quiet life where Dean was working at a bar, he had his first sighting of Bobby. To anyone else in the bar Bobby was your typical redneck, but to Dean's trained eye, there was something off about him. The entire time that Bobby was in the bar, Dean kept shooting him glares until the man got up to leave. The former Marine cornered the older man in the alley next to the building. What he hadn't noticed until it was too late, was the gun that was pointed at his gut when the man turned around._

_"I'd watch myself if I were you, boy."_

_These were the first words that Dean ever heard come out of Bobby's mouth, and they instilled a fear in him he hadn't had since the days before his special training. "I came here to ask you something," Bobby continued as Dean studied him closer. What Dean discerned in those battle-hardened lines of his future boss' face, even he couldn't say. What he could say was that he never regretted anything that happened afterwards. Well, maybe he could have handled himself a little better._

_"Well, get asking," Dean had answered after a brief silence._

_"First of all, get your hands off me. Second...don't you ever talk to me like that again, you don't know me like that, and if you keep it up...you won't." Dean had the good sense to know that this man meant every word that comes out of his mouth. He wasn't a man that would deliberately waste a moment of anyone's time, and it would be to Dean's detriment to disrespect that. He hastily let go of the man, but kept his hands ready for anything._

_"Alright," began Bobby as he brushed himself off and put away his gun, "Let's get to it, shall we? We've been watching you for some time, son."_

_"'We?'" It's never good when one person is referring to themselves in 3rd person. Either the guy is nuts or he's working for somebody. Plus, dude has a gun. So, crazy or not...he's dangerous in a lot of ways._

_"I'm going to ask you one question," continued Bobby as he disregarded Dean's question. "Depending on your answer, I will either walk away, and you never hear from me again, OR you'll be seeing my sunny disposition everyday of the work week 'til the day one of us croaks." The older man gave pause for Dean to process what had been said so far before he asked, "You satisfied with your job?"_

_"The fuck kind of question is that?" Dean blurted before he could stop himself. Honestly, it's a problem._

_"Boy, do I need to get my gun out again?" Bobby growled out, reaching to his side. Dean shook his head, and the man relaxed._

_Besides being the most vague question in the history of ever...that's a lot to lay on a man you just met, you know? But as Dean stood there staring at this man full of anger he realized that, no, he isn't happy with his life. In the need to be closer to home, he had felt that he had lost his sense of self. He had lost his identity in a way that felt impossible to recover. This was ironic in the way that he had just spent the last few years already as a part of a faceless entity, but in that institution he had found a sense of belonging that he hasn't felt since. Coming back to his hometown wasn't all it was cracked up to be; his father was gone, and his brother was still in California so he really had nothing to relate to._

_"No, sir, I ain't," Dean answered with a huff._

_"Good. I have work for you," answered Bobby as he turned and he walked away._

_"You gonna tell me what it is...sir?" asked Dean when he noticed that Bobby was going to keep walking away into the darkness._

_"I will get a hold of you when I need you. Until then, continue with your mundane life," replied Bobby after stopping to turn around to address Dean one last time._

_Sure enough, a few weeks later Dean found himself stolen out of his apartment in the middle of the night and placed in a room with nothing but a table and a chair...that he was cuffed to. He can't even remember the trip there which is saying something. He was trained to not be susceptible to being taken out by just anything. These people sure are something else._

_After blearily regaining consciousness, he started yelling until finally the only door into the room opened, and in walked Bobby. The glare that Dean fixed upon the older man did nothing to intimidate him, however._

_"How're ya doin', son?" asked Bobby conversationally._

_"Peachy," Dean answered sarcastically._

_"Good."_

_There was a dead silence that hit the room with that last statement, and Dean couldn't help his next outburst._

_"You gonna tell me what the fuck I'm doin' here? Or are we going to sit here with our thumbs up our asses all day?" The glare that fixed on him after that was enough to quell the sass that is Dean Winchester's personality. For the time being._

_"Your skills better be well worth puttin' up with that damn fool head o' yours, otherwise you and I are at an impasse, son," Bobby growls. "Now, state your name, previous occupations, et cetera. For the recording."_

_"My name is Dean Winchester. I'm an Aquarius. I enjoy sunsets, long walks on the beach and frisky women."_

_"Son," Bobby warns._

_"Alright, alright. My name is Dean Winchester. I was born January 24th, 1979. Joined the Marines when I was 18. Joined Special Ops when I was 21. I quit a few months ago and now I'm a bartender. There. Happy?"_

_Bobby only fixed him with another glare before shuffling the stack of papers in front of him. He cleared his throat and fixed Dean with a pensive look. "My boss took an interest in your work with your previous occupation, and he had me recruit you. This isn't some sort of interview right now."_

_"Yeah, I got that," interrupted Dean cheekily. His smirk fell when he was suddenly staring down the barrel of a gun Bobby was holding while keeping an unwavering concentration on the words in front of him._

_"Right now, your current job is being informed that you had a family emergency, and you will be gone for a few weeks. This is obviously a lie. You are going to be leaving within the hour to a training facility where you will learn all the necessary skills to help your country. This ain't about you anymore, it's about what you can do for your country. I think this kind of job is right up your alley if our psychoanalysts have you pegged correctly," he continues nonchalantly. The older man put down his gun in favor of skimming the papers in front of him._

_"I haven't talked to any," said Dean as he looked around to see if maybe someone was standing in one of the dark corners of the room that he hadn't noticed before_.

_"Oh, they've been studying you for some time. Just to prove it to ya, here's the findings of one Joanna Beth: 'Dean has a co-dependent relationship with his brother as evidenced by his moving back to their home town and their constant interactions via social media, cellular devices, etc. Samuel Winchester is one of Dean's weaknesses._ _May be factor to consider when hiring._ _Like-wise his car is also an extension of his want for being the kind of man his father was and keeping the facade of straight Alpha male.  May also play as a factor for not hiring him. Family is the most important thing in Dean's life, and something he craves. His constant one night stands are an overcompensation for finding affection and drowning out his incessant self-loathing. This is counter intuitive in his objective in creating family.' -Boy. Judging by the look on your face, she must have you to a T. I'll stop here, but she goes onto to some pretty interesting stuff in her report. I just read the best stuff. This whole thing is about 7 pages of your personality," ended Bobby with a chuckle. He shuffles the papers in front of him once more before standing._

_"So...that's it? When do I leave?" Dean inquired._

_"Right now. You have one phone call you can make. If you decide to tell anyone about the career opportunity you are going to embark on, it will need to be done in private, and in person. So, you won't be telling your brother any time soon what it is you're going to be doing." Bobby proceeded to release Dean from his constraints and walked out of the room._

_Dean was now left to contemplate the consequences of his rash decision. Had he answered too hastily when he saw Bobby for the first time? Had he given it enough thought? The longer he sat there he grew more and more unsure. What was he going to tell Sam? When was he going to tell Sam? Would he even see him again? The training could be too rigorous and he could die, and he wouldn't see his little brother again. He has honestly spent too much time worrying about that kid._

_Looking back at his life since leaving the armed forces, all Dean can see is a dull life. Sure, working at a bar had it's quirks, but they are far and few between in such a small town. There was nothing that compared to the rush when he was on a mission. There was nothing compared to the feeling of knowing that he was serving his country behind the scenes. It's what he was created for: grunt-work. Being whatever-this-is will just be glorified grunt-work. Sighing, he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed his brother's number._

_"H-hello?" croaked Sam. Shit, he should have checked the time._

_"Hey, sorry for waking you so late, Samantha, I know how much you need your beauty sleep," he chuckled nervously._

_"It's alright, Dean, what's up, man? Haven't talked you in a few days. Was starting to get worried," Sam groggily stated._

_"Oh, yeah, sorry, I was just really busy at the bar. I'm just calling to tell you that uh-" dammit. He hadn't given this much thought. What the hell is he supposed to tell Sam? Improv it is. "Just wanted to tell you that I'm quitting my job. A buddy of mine called me the other day, and he's got a job for me."_

_"Oh? That's sudden. Where are you going?" Leave it to Sam to be the most inquisitive person ever. It'll be awesome in the court room -not so awesome right now._

_"Yeah, it's going to be overseas. I'm headed to the airport right now, I'll be gone for a few months," the elder brother rushed to say._

_"Holy shit, Dean! Are you serious? Why didn't you tell me earlier? How am I supposed to get a hold of you?"_

_"Not sure yet, I don't have roaming on my cell package...we'll figure something out. I'm about to be walk into the airport...I'll call you when I can. Bye, Sam._ "

_"Bye, Dean. Love you," he huffed before hanging up. There, at least that was done. He's going to do his best to make sure he comes back in one piece to his brother again._

xvx

**Present**

Dean finally makes his way downstairs to the banquet hall of the hotel he is staying. He had to admit that he was looking extremely well put together tonight. His suit was hugging him in all the right places, and there wasn't a doubt in his mind that he was going to grab the host's attention for the night.

Not wanting to give Castiel too much of a chance to recognize him, on the off chance he knew what Dean looked like, the green eyed man waited to walk into the hall with a large group of people.

As soon as he stepped in, Dean was almost overwhelmed by the extravagance rampant throughout the room and people there. He had just walked through the streets right outside and saw the amount of poverty stricken throughout the population. This was sickening.

Making his rounds, he spots the man in charge of the convention. Straightening his jade colored tie, the agent made his way over to Ishtar just in time for the man to turn his direction. Dean couldn't help the smirk that graced his features when he saw the way the man took him in. Honestly, the guy wasn't half bad looking himself. Tall, olive skinned, red-brown eyes that glowed ethereally. If there was an extra swing in his step, well, Dean wasn't giving it too much thought anyway.

"And what brings you to the dregs of society, Mister-" the man asked, leaving the end of his sentence for Dean to fill in his name.

"Ackles. Jensen Ackles."

"Well -Jensen was it?" Dean nodded. "Well, I hope you enjoy your stay in Syria. How long are you here?" he inquired with a flirty glint in his eye. Wow, this guy was going to make it easy.

Dean stepped closer for a dramatic effect before whispering into the man's ear conspiratorially, "I'm only here for tonight, and I was hoping to find a really good time, if you know what I mean?" Dean added a small nip to the man's lobe before stepping back to see his work. He's still got it. The man was practically begging for it now, but Dean has to remind himself that this man is a means to an end. His real goal is flirt with Ishtar until Castiel shows up with whatever package he's brought. After that, it's just a matter of assessing and dismantling.

"Is that so?" the Syrian man huskily returned. If Dean was here strictly for pleasure...this guy would so be on his to-do list for a lot longer than tonight. Alas, the agent doesn't always get what he wants.

"Yeah. Have any ideas what a man like me can do for a good time on a night like this?" Dean discreetly ran his hand along the shoulder of the Syrian host in front of him simultaneously depositing a bug on him that was remote controlled via his watch. Once initiated, all speech is then wirelessly relayed into his ear as well as back home where it is recorded for further analysis.

"One could think of many activities to do on a night like this, Mr. Ackles. One merely needs to find an apt partner," he winked.

"And...are _you_ going to be that partner, Mr. Safra?" The man's eyes lit up when Dean used his name. Sigh. Almost too easy.

"You know my name?" he asked incredulously.

"If I'm going to seduce a man, I figure I'm gonna need to know what name I'll be shouting out later, don't you think? I mean, it's only polite." Hook. Line. Sinker.

The host gives a smile that Dean returns before turning to one of his security guards and speaking to him in Arabic, "Ready my room for a _guest of honor_ tonight." The man nods before leaving their presence. "Mr. Ackles, I would like for you to enjoy yourself for the rest of the evening. When this evening is over, one of my guards will accompany you to my room if I cannot. There, I will show you an amazing time. In the mean time, I do have business to attend to." With that, the man walked away to meet another halfway across the room.

As soon as Dean is out of sight from the bodyguards and the host of the convention, he grabbed a drink, and pressed the record button on his watch and idly talked with strangers while listening to all the things Ishtar said.

The agent was in the middle of a conversation with a rather busty brunette about her theories for a renewable energy source when he heard the name that he'd been waiting to hear.

"Yes, Mr. Novak, I did receive the email from your employer earlier this evening."

"Good. Do I need to explain anything to you?" Now, fuck. That voice went straight to Dean's dick. Did the guy gargle with gravel? Suppressing a shudder, Dean excused himself from the woman with whom he was speaking. He stealthily stalked through the crowd until he could spot the two men. That had to be Castiel. Even though Dean couldn't see his face, the agent could see the silhouette that matched the blurry picture that was in his briefcase upstairs. Before Dean could fantasize about what Castiel's face must look like, the other man was speaking again.

"Yes, in fact. When is it that the package will arrive?"

"I am proof that the package has arrived, Mr. Safra. I personally delivered it to your bedroom here. Your guards have already seen to it."

"Good, good. When will we see the demonstration?" he asked with glee.

Dean could almost hear derision in Castiel's response. For what, the eldest Winchester couldn't know. "I will conduct a demonstration of the explosive tomorrow morning at 9am." Well, now that he's got this information, he can use the time later tonight after Ishtar's asleep to find the weapon and disarm it.

"Excellent." After a moment's hesitation he spoke again, "Do relax, Mr. Novak. You are worrying my guests," the Syrian soothed.

"My apologies. I am not a highly sociable person. If you will allow, I would excuse myself to my chamber until such a time as I am needed. You need merely contact me." Dean watched as the trench-coated man made to walk past the host, only to be stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

"Oh, nonsense. Come, let us drink. I have procured a very pretty American earlier this evening," the man goaded.

"I really must decline, Ishtar," the man Dean presumed to be Castiel muttered. This won't do. The agent really needs to see what the man looks like so that when he gets back home, he can describe the assassin to one of the sketch artists at the agency.

Dean stood there for a second longer before catching the eye of a waiter with champagne on his tray. Grabbing three, he made his way to the two other men.

"Oh, here he comes," Dean heard the host mutter to his companion. "Isn't he beautiful? Perhaps we could share him?" It was a good thing that Dean was able to keep a straight face after hearing that. Hot _damn_ did a three-some sound good right about now, but he has to remember that one of the men in front of him has killed an innumerable amount of people, and the other is about to do the same. What can he say? He's got a thing for troublemakers.

The agent put on his best smile as he approached. On the outside he would seem put together and calm, but on the inside he was a bundle of nerves. Never in his career has he ever been this nervous about meeting someone. But, hell, can you blame a guy?

Just as Ishtar flashed him back a smile, Castiel slowly turned to meet his gaze and fuck if Dean didn't cream his pants right there in the middle of that floor. The sex hair, the scruff, those blue depths, and _damn_ those lips. Those lips were definitely going to be the object of his fantasies for a very long time. He's considering skipping out on Ishtar altogether, and showing this man a good time. _Focus, Dean. This is the guy you're here to take out_ he reminds himself.

"Well, hello there. Name's Jensen," Dean blurted with as much grace as possible.

"Dmitri," the other man answered. _Oh, Russian are we?_

"Dmitri? I knew it had to be something hot," smirked Dean.

"Hot?" asked the man as he turned his head to the side like a confused dog.

"Yeah, as in...sexy?"

"It's just a name," stated the assassin with a shrug.

"Is this guy real?" asked Dean playfully as he turned to Ishtar.

"Unfortunately, yes, Mr. Ackles. My companion is not very, how you say...socially adept," chuckled the Syrian.

"I'll say," smiled Dean. "What brings you here, Dmitri?"

"Ishtar and I are good friends. I came here to celebrate the success of his convention," said Castiel with practiced ease.

"Oh, how nice of you. Ishtar and I will be doing a little _private_ celebrating of our own later...would you care to join?" drawled Dean.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see the Arab man nodding encouragingly.

"I must decline, Mr. Ackles. I do not wish to partake in any carnal pleasures with multiple partners."

"Wow. I didn't know there was a wrong way to talk about sex," laughed Dean. "Are you afraid of something? You're not a virgin, are you?" the spy teased further.

Castiel smirked to himself a little before answering, "I can assure you that I am not a virgin, Jensen. If I were so inclined, I could ruin you for anyone else, but out of courtesy for my friend, I will be residing in my room on the top floor for the rest of the evening. However, should you change your mind, I wouldn't turn away a solicitation later in the evening. I merely declined the invitation for a menage-a-trois because I've never been one to share my toys." Castiel walked away smoother than a mother fucker.

Holy. Shit. He's done for. As Dean turned to Ishtar and flashed him a fake smile, he decided that his first goal for the evening will be getting the Arabic man too drunk to fuck.

Hours later, at two in the morning, Dean found himself on the top floor of the hotel, after he'd safely deposited the Syrian in his chamber and taken note of the layout of the room. As he walked down the hall, he realized that he didn't know in what room to look for Castiel. Luck would have it that the assassin had placed his blue tie on the door knob outside of his room.

If Castiel was this forward, he could assume that the door would be unlocked. It was.

Stepping through the threshold, Dean was shrouded in darkness but for the moonlight spewing in through the open windows of the terrace.

He spotted Castiel laying on the bed.

"Good evening, Jensen," he spoke.

"Hey, Dmitri," Dean stammered. Since when was he nervous about sex? Oh, yeah. About the time when he decided that having sex with the most daunting criminal alive was a good idea. And that's including all the others he's already slept with.

"Did you enjoy Ishtar?" Castiel flashed a smirk that did nothing to hide the look of derision in his eyes.

"Um...no. I got him too drunk to do anything," Dean blushed.

Dean could almost feel the smile in the man's lips as he answered, "Well, what a shame. Surely, you can find another way to pass the time."

"I think I already have."

"Oh?" the man teased. "And what did you have in mind?"

"I'd really like to spend the night with you," Dean huffed nervously.

Dean stood there at the edge of the bed, waiting for a clue as to what to do next. He didn't know what he was thinking coming up here. Castiel is an assassin, one that he will probably need to kill within the next seven hours, yet here is trying to have sex with him. Mais, c'est la vie, non?

"Come here, Mr. Ackles, I'd like to show you just how deflowered I am."

Dean couldn't stop himself from stepping into the embrace of the man in front of him. The amount of electricity flowing through him was enough to make him shudder.

"I'm going to kiss you, Jensen," he spoke in a secretive whisper, staring right into verdant orbs filled with lust. Hands at the back of his neck should have made Dean nervous, but all it did was spur him on.

"You don't need to coddle me, Dmitri, I'm a big boy now."

"Yes, I can tell," he smirked. He slowly brought a hand to cup Dean through his slacks, eliciting a moan from him. He used his other hand to grab at the hair behind Dean's head. He tugged harshly, and smiled at the gasp he earned. "Someone likes things a little rough. Am I correct in this assumption?"

Dean nodded. This earned him a tug that hurt _oh so good_.

"I don't like silence unless I ask for it. Answer aloud when I speak to you. Do you comprehend?"

"Yes," he groaned. And he added a, "Sir," just for shits and giggles.

"Hm. That's a very good _boy_." Dean couldn't stop the shiver that ran down his spine at that. "Oh, isn't that lovely? It seems you like to be talked down to as well. I think we will enjoy each other's company very much this evening, Mr. Ackles," he smiled.

What Dean wouldn't give to have this man know his real name. He'd probably blow his load if he ever heard his name uttered in ecstasy from those lips.

Dean tried to brings his lips to the ones mere inches from his own, but was met with a frown.

Swiftly, he turned them around roughly pushed Dean onto the bed. "You are going to sit there and do as you are told and nothing else. Do I make myself clear?"

"Y-yes." Holy. Fuck. Just what did he get himself into? Castiel smiled to himself as he stepped just out of Dean's reach. He began to tantalizingly slowly strip off his clothes, motioning for Dean to do the same.

"Would you like to touch me, Jensen?" he teased as soon as they were bare.

And boy did he ever. There was never an expanse of skin that he has ever felt more attracted to in his entire life. He answered in the affirmative before he could stop himself.

"Give me your hand," the other man whispered. When Dean proffered his hand, his breath caught at what the man did next. Castiel lovingly took his hand, and rubbed tentative circles with his thumb across the knuckles. Then he brought the spy's hand to his mouth and kissed each tip with an added soft caress of his tongue before slipping one finger into his mouth. He worked the finger in and out of his mouth as he brought a hand down to his still hardening erection, giving himself slow strokes. Before long, he removed the finger from his mouth and brought it to his chest. When Dean heard the sharp intake of breath at the first contact of finger to light brown nub, he knew what to do.

Dean gave a questioning look and waited for permission before he took control of his hand and pinched the assassin's nipples until they were little peaks and Castiel was sporting a prominent blush.

"Touch me. All over. Just touch me," he pleaded desperately. Dean had never seen such need in another before, and he wanted nothing except to fulfill the wishes of the man in front of him despite the assassin's reputation. The blush Castiel sported gave him such an innocent flair that for a moment Dean couldn't connect the assassin he knows Castiel to be with the man in front of him now.

Dean sought every crevice of the body in front of him with his hands, stopping when he found a place that brought out a greater reaction than the rest. He was surprised by the sudden change in texture of the flesh on the small of Castiel's back that felt rougher than the rest. Castiel noticed the hesitation because he backed away and looked down to the floor in a sheepish yet angry manner.

"What happened there?" Dean asked with curiosity hardly above a whisper.

"I procured that scar the day that I lost someone very close to me," the assassin muttered after a moment's pause.

"Your wife? Or boyfriend? I don't judge. Obviously."

"No. I have never had the time for meaningful relationships of that nature. It was-" he hesitated for a moment and took a shaky breath. "It was my sister, Anna. She was taken from me by a-a despicable _heathen_ ," he growled. "There runs the possibility that I may never get to see her again. I must live with the guilt that she suffers for my mistake. That scar is a reminder of that failure, and I despise it. There has never been a more grotesque _disfigurement_ that I have ever seen," he finished angrily.

Dean sat there in a shock as he tried to process what he'd just learned. Could he take this story for something real? Bobby _did_ mention that Castiel only started working for Crowley exclusively a few years ago, and that that would entail that the douche must have something on the assassin. A sister would definitely be a liability. Hell, Dean's got Sam. For _starters_. But that vulnerability is almost too much. What would compel Castiel to say something so personal to Dean at all?

Before the moment stretched too long, he reached a hand out to the man in front of him. When Castiel shook his head, Dean pleaded, "Please, Dmitri?"

When Dean could see that Castiel was beginning to lose his arousal, but not his resolve, he stood with a sigh. He used his forefinger and thumb underneath the shorter man's chin to bring their lips together in a chaste kiss. And what a kiss it was. There was something bubbling underneath the surface of that kiss, and it wasn't even a dirty kiss. Sometimes, all a person needed was a physical reassurance that everything would be alright. Discreetly, Dean brought his hand to softly caress the scar. He honestly can't say what is compelling him to behave this way.

Abruptly, Dean pulled away from the kiss and dropped to his knees. Turning the assassin around, he licked a tentative stripe along the middle of the scar. There was a sharp intake of breath and hiss that met his ears. Lovingly, he kissed every inch of the marred skin while rubbing reassuring circles on the back of Castiel's thighs. Then, Dean started to lay kisses along the assassin's spine as he stood up, pausing to leave a mark on the bare neck in front of him.

"If you want," the spy spoke while running his hands over Castiel's smooth stomach. "If you want, we can just not-"

"I am not a child," Castiel interrupted sternly. The assassin faced Dean with a look that went straight to his dick. "I would much rather exploit your body for the time being." The blue eyed man swiftly turned them once more and pushed Dean unto the bed where he then straddled the spy's lap. "Would you like to help me forget, Mr. Ackles? I find myself very much in need of not remembering who I am and what it is I do. Can you do that for me?" he spoke close enough to the other man's lips that they brushed with each word.

"Yeah, sweetheart. I'm up for anything." To emphasize his point, Dean surged his hips upwards until their cocks were flush.

"Indeed you are," panted Castiel as he rolled his hips down. Hungrily he crashed their lips together. It wasn't anything like the first kiss, but there was nothing wrong with that. This wasn't the time for love-making, this was the time for a life-affirming romp in the sheets. This, Dean could do with his eyes closed.

"Fuck, baby, just like that," Dean breathed. The green eyed man ran a hand down what was quickly becoming his favorite spine, and went to tease Castiel's rim only to find that it was already slick and loose. "Shit," he cursed. That smug bastard had been busy while waiting.

"Do you like that, Mr. Ackles?" the other man chuckled. "My little hole felt so empty, and your cock was nowhere to be found. I must say that it wasn't as fulfilling as I was hoping it to be, and I am very glad that you decided to join me. I'd been enraptured by you from the moment I saw you standing next to our host this evening. I was hoping my blatant jealousy would arouse you enough to ditch that vermin for me." As Castiel finished talking, he reached a hand down to grasp Dean's member, positioning himself over the head.

"Wouldn't miss this for the world, sweetheart."

Castiel could only smile in response to that statement. Slowly, he slid down to the hilt all the while biting his lip to keep back the needy noises sure to embarrass him. The shorter man set a relentless pace that had each of them gasping.

"I get that you're _mmmmmmm_ in charge here, but _huh_ the only thing I'm going to ask is that you don't _fuck_ hold back noises behind those pretty little lips of yours."

"I can comply with that," Castiel smirked. The noises that began to pour from that mouth were almost enough to make Dean come on their own.

 _"Mmmm-hah_. Jensen, lay back for me. Much better _fuck_. Now, as I pull up, I want you to come down, and as I come down, I want you to push up and circle your hi-YES. Like that!" he yelled, gasping for breath.

Dean grabbed the other man's waist and complied with his orders. He knew he'd get punished if he didn't do as told. Perhaps next time he'd deliberately diso-Wait a minute. Next time? When has there ever been a next time? What the hell is wrong with him? This is just a meaningless fuck. One last bang before shit hits the fan. Somehow Dean could tell that a horny and unsatisfied Castiel would be scarier than regular assassin Castiel.

"Jensen, _fuck_ , no one ever gets this right. _Hnnnnnnnn_. I knew you wouldn't disappoint," panted Castiel.

"What can I say? I'm good at what I do," Dean smirked.

"Then you are in for a treat," the other man breathed. Dean didn't have a chance to ask before he felt Castiel clench down every time he pulled back up. The sensation was enough to cause Dean to choke on the breath he'd tried to take. "Does that feel good?"

" _Fuck_ yeah, baby," growled Dean as he brought his hands to knead at the other man's ass. " _Shit_ , you weren't lyin' about ruinin' me for anyone else. _Mmmmm_ , you keep doin' that and I'm gonna come." This did nothing but encourage Castiel. The shorter man harshly yanked at Dean's hair to bring them together for a heated kiss that was more teeth and tongue than anything else.

"I want you to come now, Jensen. Want you to fill me up," the assassin panted as he sped up his tempo. He threw back his head in ecstasy, using Dean's chest for leverage. The sound of pounding flesh was almost deafening.

"Fuck, I'm gonna come, Dmitri. Gonna leave you drippin'."

"Yes! Give it to me!" Castiel growled.

Dean sped up his thrusts as much as he could. He was so close, and so was the man riding him into oblivion. Finally, both men reached completion at the same time. After riding out their highs, Castiel collapsed into an unceremonious heap on Dean's heaving chest. The sound of their breathing was the only thing that could be heard for a minute or two before Dean broke the silence.

"That was amazing, sweetheart."

"I'd have to agree. Perhaps," he began as turned his head to meet Dean's gaze. "Perhaps we could continue our tryst?" There was a vulnerable yet hopeful look in Castiel's eyes.

What the hell? "How-What?" he frowned. No, seriously, _what the fuck?_ Just how the hell did the shorter man think this would work? He doesn't know anything about Dean, alias or otherwise. At least that's what they were going with here.

"I'm not sure...you're right. Forget I said anything," Castiel mumbled in embarrassment.

Just as they were regaining their silence, Dean asked, "Hey, um, Dmitri?"

"Yes?"

"Do you want me to stay? Or go back to my room?" Ok now _he's_ being the dumb ass. He should have just thanked the powers that be that he just had the fuck of his life with the world's deadliest assassin and would live to tell the tale. Hell, _and_ he'd garnered an inquiry for more. If that didn't stroke his ego, he doesn't know what would.

Castiel gave him wide eyes that seemed to calculate just what he was being asked. "I would like for you to stay," he replied finally.

After cleaning themselves off, the two men held each other as they drifted off into sleep.

xvx

When Dean awoke the next morning, he saw that it was just past seven in the morning. He also saw that he was tied to a bed that wasn't his. _Fuck_. He'd fallen asleep with Castiel. Maybe the guy was into the kinky stuff and he was going to walk out of the bathroom any moment to ravish him once again?

Yeah, or the more likely option that he was readying the weapon he'd brought with him.

Either way, Dean's fucked. Just as he was contemplating the status of his job, (if he managed to escape) he heard the door open.

"Good morning, _Dean_. How did you sleep?" asked the assassin a little smugly. Shit. He used Dean's name, which-well he doesn't have the time to hash that out in his brain just yet.

"Just fine, _Castiel_." Might as well show that he isn't completely incompetent. If there's one thing that he despises more than anything else, it's the thought that someone might kill him with the impression that he is dumb. He'd finally gotten over most of his self deprecating indulgences and finally turned it into a pet peeve.

By now, Castiel had moved over to the bed, and was playing with the ropes by Dean's head. He leaned close enough that they were sharing air once more, and fuck if that didn't send a shiver down Dean's spine. He scowled at the smirk that played on the shorter man's face.

"Sooo...was any of last night real? Offering to fuck me more? Or even that stupid little sob story?" Dean growled. If he made it out of here alive, he was going to come home with something to compensate for the major fuck up this mission most assuredly was going to turn out to be.

"It was not a _stupid little sob story_ ," Castiel hissed. "And for your information," he began as he gripped tightly at the hair at the base of Dean's neck. "I have never slept with the enemy before."

"You sayin' you made an exception for me?" Dean scoffed.

"I will always make an exception for you, Dean."

"The fuck does that even mean?" The spy has no idea what to make of this information he is gathering, but he really hopes that he will be able to make use of it in the near future.

Dean's not sure when Jesus started hating him, but he's pretty sure it was the moment that Castiel was born.

"It means that your memory doesn't serve you as well as I had hoped for," Castiel replied sadly. The grip in his hair loosened, and the assassin's face adopted a soft look as he took to stroking the cheek of the man tied to the bed. "I was really, really hoping that your agency had sent someone other than you. Having you here is going to make things doubly difficult for me."

"Yeah? Because you know I'm gonna kick your ass?" he smirked defiantly. If there's one thing he's good at, it's goading himself into more trouble with his mouth. He really needs to see if the higher-ups have invented a brain-to-mouth-filter-chip-thing that he can have implanted.

The blue eyed man chuckled in response. "And how exactly do you plan on doing that, Dean? I did a thorough check on your person, you have nothing but the little receiver which, I will assume, is connected to the bug you implanted on Ishtar last night. Just which head were you thinking with last night?" Smug bastard.

"Don't worry about me, sweetheart, I always come through in the end."

"Indeed. Like you did so nicely for me last night; filled me up to the _brim_ ," he whispered with a groan. "I'd never had a more satisfying fuck in all the years since I've been in this industry. I was sincere in offering you a continuation of our tryst. No one need ever know about us."

"I think I'll pass. Once with a mass murderer is enough for me. Didn't quite sit well with my conscience. Not sure I could get it up again after the sight of you killing thousands of people for Crowley."

Had Dean blinked in that moment, he would have missed the hurt and sudden anger that flashed across the azure eyes he just couldn't get enough of. He knows that he went too far with what he'd just said, but he's lost. He's been thrown into the fray of things without enough information to pick the best route out of his predicament.

"If I didn't know you better, I'd shoot your for your insolence. As it were, I know you a lot better than you seem to remember; I will accept your apology for such an outburst on a later date. But now? Now you are going to lay here and wait until I come back."

"And why would I do that?"

"Because you like being told what to do," he smirked. "And because your safety depends upon your obedience. Can you do that Dean? Can you follow my orders?" he whispered against the plump lips underneath him.

"Fuck you," Dean replied through gritted teeth.

"Yes, and it was my pleasure," he smiled. "If you ever change your mind, I have specially programmed my number into a phone that I have sent to your apartment back in the States. No one will be able to access it but you." With that, Castiel tentatively leaned into Dean's personal space once more, and pressed their lips together in a heated kiss. He pulled back slightly to chuckle at Dean's insistence to not reciprocate the kiss. "Please, beloved. Just give me this, in case I never get to have you again," he pleaded. And who was Dean to say no to those innocent looking eyes? Hell, the man probably didn't even have any actual skills in combat. He probably just turned to people with those eyes and begged them to die and they willingly offed themselves.

This time when the assassin brought their lips together, it rekindled the fire that had been slumbering since their earlier romp in the sheets. Dean lost himself in the sensation of moving his lips in tandem with man hovering over him. He's not sure how much time has passed, but when they finally part, both men are out of breath.

"You're weird, you know that, Cas?"

"Cas?" that assassin asked with that horridly adorable turn to his head.

"Well, yeah. We fucked, right? I figure I've at least earned the right to give you a nickname. It was that or Cassie, and yeah, Cassie is not a name I'm fond of anymore," Dean rushed.

"I could live with the name 'Cas'," he smiled fondly. Tentatively, he leaned forward once more, and gave Dean one last chaste kiss before he walked out of the room.

As soon as the door closed, Dean let out a sigh of relief. Just what is going on right now? How does Castiel know about him, and why is he trying to protect him? It's probably just a lie so that he can get Dean out of the way so that he can go through with Crowley's plan.

Like hell Dean's going to let him get away with that. Dean began to struggle against his restraints.

xvx

Less than half an hour later, Dean was coming out of his own room, equipped with all the gadgets necessary for taking out what Castiel delivered to Ishtar last night as well as all of the rest of his belongings.

Creeping along the hallway, he is stopped in front of Mr. Safra's room by two guards. One of them is the one that Ishtar had whispered instructions to last night, and Dean sees a glint of recognition in his eye before the man steps into the room.

Hardly a minute goes by before the man is telling him, "Mr. Safra will see you now."

Dean nods and steps into the room.

Last night, he only garnered a quick glance into the dark room as the guards took their leader into the quietude of the room. Now, in the daylight, he can appreciate the room a lot more.

Obviously, it was a lot better furnished than his own room, and it gave off the air of royalty. It's these kinds of self entitled pricks that Dean just cannot stand. In the time that he stood there, Ishtar has finally made it to the main room.

"Ah, Mr. Ackles! You must forgive my rudeness last night! It was my intention to wile away the night with you, but it seems that I had a few too many drinks last night, and I must apologize. I would love to try again tonight."

"No can do, handsome, remember? I've got a flight to catch in a little while," Dean replied in a convincing tone of sadness.

"Oh, come now! Reschedule it! I will pay!" the man pouted petulantly. Wow, that is such a turn off. Dean prefers a man that can assert himself in a more adult-like manner.

"I can't, Mr. Safra. I have business to attend to that I can't put off for much longer."

"Ah, business. The mistress of all working men such as ourselves. I am sorry to hear that you cannot stay, perhaps you could arrange to come back another time more suitable to our schedules?" he inquired.

Dean offered his most charming smile as he answered, "That sounds like a perfect idea, Mr. Safra."

Just before the two men could continue their conversation, they were interrupted by one of the guards coming in with a phone to his ear. As Dean waited for Ishtar to take care of the call, he casually went around the room under the pretext of appreciating all the things it had to offer, while in reality he was searching for anything that looked out of place, i.e. a briefcase that appeared as something the likes of Crowley had touched.

Just when he was going to have to head back to the main room in order to throw off suspicion, he saw it in plain sight on top of Ishtar's bed. He crept as quickly as possible towards the case and inconspicuously implanted a scrambler on the inside of the briefcase. As far as this mission goes, he has done his duty. The scrambler has the dual duty of reporting about all the contents of the case to Headquarters, as well as permanently destroying the device.

As smoothly as possible, he walked back to the room he had been left in and waited for the other man to show. When he did, the man was out of breath and looked a little worse for wear.

"Is everything alright, Ishtar?" asked Dean politely.

"Yes. No-Yes. Listen, I hate to be rude, but I must attend to a few more things. Give your number to one of my guards and you are free to get to your flight."

Dean offered a goodbye to the scurrying man before giving his number to the guard from the previous night. After doing so, he walked out of the room. In the hallway, he was met with a haphazard looking Castiel.

"Hey there, gorgeous, something the matter?" Dean teased.

"Dean, what did you do? What are you doing out of the room? Why didn't you listen to me?" he rushed.

"Seriously? Because I don't fucking know you, asshole. I did my job, now I'm leaving. Stop me if you want."

"It's not a matter of what I want! Dammit, Dean, you've just ruined everything! This took months of prep-" Castiel exclaimed.

"I don't give a damn how long it took," Dean interrupted. "I take out guys like you for a living. That's it. You were the job." Even to Dean that sounded a little harsh. Even now he can't deny that there was something different about last night. There wasn't the usual emotional disconnect that he associated with his rendez-vous. There was a spark that ran through his spine the whole time that he was with Castiel that he had first associated with the fact that he was with an assassin, but looking back...it was the kind of spark he's only ever had one or two other times in his life.

Dean almost flinched at the flash of pain that went across those azure orbs.

"Yes, I almost forgot about the title given to you by others in our line of work. Dean Winchester: The Spy That Didn't Know He Is a Whore. I guess I was hoping too much in wanting to get to know you better."

"Yeah, see, that gives me the heebs, dude. Where do you know me from? I've never seen you before in my life! I would remember a face like yours." Behind Dean there was a commotion, and Castiel's eyes grew wide at whatever he saw.

"That is a story for another time, Dean. For now, I suggest that you run. Get out of here as soon as possible because I can't keep your presence here a secret from Crowley for much longer. I am going to be required to chase you."

Dean doesn't know what went through him with that last part of the sentence, but it definitely sent a shiver down his spine. Fuck, just what did this guy do to him?

"Nice knowin' ya, Cas. Have a nice life! I hope I never have to see you again."

Dean didn't wait for a reply as he walked off, and left the bewildered assassin behind him.

The spy made it to the lobby before he heard a commotion upstairs.

 _That's my cue_ he thinks as he takes off at a run.

The eldest Winchester makes his way through the old streets of Damascus as he tries to escape from the heavily armored men behind him. He's starting to regret having fallen asleep on the plane ride here. He is so lost right now, he won't even be able to joke about it later. Had he taken the time to memorize at least part of a map, he wouldn't be in this predicament.

Twisting and turning, Dean is trying to force his way through the busy streets filled to the brim with people. Just as he starts to think that he has lost Ishtar's men, someone collides with him from an alley to the right.

When they finish tumbling around the floor, Dean has his back on the ground and sees he has a lap full of Castiel.

"Hm, now ain't this a familiar picture?" Dean teases.

"This isn't the time for jokes. Act like a professional," Castiel growls.

"Why not? I seem to remember you lovin' the way my dick was pumpin' in and outta you last night." For added emphasis, he rolled his hips up, and caused a gasp to escape from the lips of the assassin looming above him.

"Fuck, Dean, stop! You don't understand what you've done!" Castiel exclaimed.

"Yeah I do! I stopped Ishtar from starting a war that would have killed millions!" Dean pushed Castiel off of him and once more took off running. As he did so he was hit on the head by the back of a gun.

Before he passed out he heard a voice say, "Crowley wants this man alive, Mr. Novak. You are t-"

 _Shit, what did I do_? thought Dean right before he passed out.

xvx

When Dean next wakes up, he finds that he is strapped to a chair in a dingy looking room with a single light bulb hanging from a precarious looking wire. Dean groaned when he was suddenly hit with all the things his body has had to endure for an undetermined amount of time. He catches flashes of faces that he can't give names to, and then he remembers seeing Crowley a few times.

And...and he remembers seeing Castiel as well. Except...those memories don't make any sense...

_"Hello, Dean," Castiel huffed as he took a seat in the chair next to him. "I'm so sorry that you are in this predicament. I am here to clean you up, though. I had to threaten the nurse with the promise of the death of her husband so that I could secretly be the one to come in here and take care of you. I have no intention of doing such a thing to him, but I must be sure that she does not divulge of my interference here." Castiel begins to clean the big wounds first, and after a while he gains a frown._

_"I wish you had trusted me, Dean. Had you followed my orders, you would now be home safe with your brother and your sister-in-law." Castiel adopts a scornful look as he says, "I shouldn't have confronted you. This is entirely my fault. I should have just let you do your job, and kept my distance."_

_More silence, and Castiel sighed before speaking again._

_"I understand that you have no reason to believe me, and it was wishful thinking that someone as distrusting as you would immediately believe the things that I said. That bomb was not going to off in that hotel, Dean. I had it set to go off when Ishtar was supposed to be alone no matter what tampering they would have done. I had finally found my sister and had arranged for her capture so that I could take her far away from my mistakes. She has been hidden for now, but I cannot join her just yet because I cannot abandon you here._

_"One day, I will recount to you of the day that I first saw you," he smiled fondly as he packed away the things he used. Had that much time passed already? Maybe Dean had passed out somewhere in the middle there. "It was probably the first time that I saw a color other than red. Red had been the only color I had seen since I was 12, but there you were and all of the sudden I was drowning in the color green and boyish freckles," he chuckled. "That moment changed my life, Dean."_

The memory gave way to fogginess and hunger, but there was nothing that he could do about either. There was no use in trying to escape for the moment. He needs to try to stay awake this time, no matter what.

Just as that thought crossed his mind, the spy heard shuffling outside of the door. A welcome breeze came in with the man now taking a seat in his eyesight.

Crowley.

"Hello, darling," he smirked.

"What do you want?" said Dean. His voice cracked from disuse and lack of water.

"Now, is that any way to greet the man that has so graciously opened his home to you?"

"You're right, where are my manners?" he chuckled half-heartedly. "What the fuck do you want, ass hat?" Dean growled threateningly.

"Ah, much better. Now, onto business, so to speak. Do you know why you are here?"

"Because you need a boy toy? I gotta say, though, you've already got one with DSLs."

"Ah, yes. Castiel. He is off limits. As much as I would enjoy him, I know that he doesn't have sex with those he considers enemies," the man smirked. "And he has a very legitimate reason for seeing me as such."

"Yeah, I don't really give a fuck, Crowley. Can we just get this over with? Either kill me or let me go."

"Well, sweetheart, here's the thing: You sabotaged my plans and you must pay severely for your transgressions. Castiel will be in here later today to administer your punishment. Ciao, darling."

As Crowley left the room, there was a tentative knock on the door and a little mouse of a woman walked into the room with a tray of food. Dean can only wonder why in the hell Crowley would feed him right before torturing him. A few hours after eating, Dean's almost-nap was interrupted once more by a knock. The sight that greeted him left him both angry and confused. Angry because it was Castiel and confused because there was an expression the shorter man's face that could only be read as regret.

"Hey, sweetheart," Dean drawled in his usual cocky manner. "To what do I the pleasure of seeing your pretty face again?"

Dean watched as Castiel cringed at the endearments thrown his way.

"Hello, Dean," replied Castiel. "I am here to serve as your punisher; the harbinger of your torture." Castiel looked away as his words sunk in. For whatever reason, he couldn't bring himself to look into Dean's eyes which did nothing for the spy's sanity. Dean did the only thing he could to make the next few hours easier on himself.

" _Mmm_. So we're getting to kinky stuff already, baby? You gonna gag me up, too? Or are you gonna get off to the noises I make? Such a kinky fucker I found for myself. Can you do me a favor, though, darlin'?"

Dean could see the other man's shoulders shaking as he stood just outside the ring of light around the spy. Thinking about the foggy memory from a few hours (days? Dean has no sense of the time passed since his arrival) ago, Dean says the one thing that will either break Castiel or save him. Maybe both.

"Could you look me in the eyes as we do this? I find that I need to drown in blue while wading through the red." Dean knows that he said the right thing when he hears the hitching of breath not two feet away from him.

The assassin's response came in a sweet caress of the spy's tied wrists.

It was little moments like these in the time to come when Castiel would show a tenderness Dean thought him incapable of that Dean feels his heart beat a little faster. Deep down, Dean feels that he must have met Castiel at some other point in his life, but Dean is also sure that he would never consciously forget a face like Castiel's.

In the next few hours, the only noises that came out of the room were Dean's screams and yells of pain and the subtle whispers of "I'm so sorry, beloved."

xvx

Dean has once more lost track of the time. He hasn't been coherent in what feels like years. He spends every morning in the presence of Crowley where he then pisses off the Scottish man to no end. He is then fed and given a few hours respite until he is visited by the Angel that is both his torturer and savior. They no longer speak much to each other as the hours go by because there are only so many times one can apologize for that which he cannot stop doing and only so many times that one can reply while being poked and prodded to death. The only time they communicate is at the end of each session when Castiel has cleansed himself of the blood of the spy.

The two men meet their gazes one last time and poor all the unsaid things into that look. They never did keep track of how long the looks take.

An hour after the assassin had left Dean in solitude one day, he returned. Castiel walked inside with a tentativeness unbecoming of the stories about him, but a way with which Dean was becoming more familiar.

"I've come to clean your wounds, Dean. I know that that must seem counter intuitive to what I've just done, but I feel that I must make up for-"

"It's alright, sweetheart, come here. I could use a little TLC right about now. Actually, before you get started...how are you sure that Crowley won't be bursting in here to ask you what you're doing?"

"I'm wearing something to scramble the signal of the cameras. I have also given one to the nurse and told her to make my rounds. Those that will see her are loyal to me, and will not question what is happening. There are more scramblers scattered throughout the complex at random intervals. We will not be interrupted as long as nothing out of the ordinary happens out there."

"Pretty _and_ smart? I sure hit the jackpot," Dean smiled. "Do you think we have enough time to fool around?" Dean asked suggestively with a waggle of brows.

Castiel was too late to stop the small smile that flashed across his face. "Even if we did have enough time, you insatiable beast, I would hate to agitate any of your wounds any further."

"Ugh, you're no fun, Cas."

"On the contrary, you are quite aware of how much fun I can be, Dean, this just isn't the time to indulge." Castiel gained a somber look on his face as he untied Dean and helped him to stretch out his limbs. When he got Dean on his two feet, he reverently began undressing him.

"I'm getting mixed signals here, Cas," Dean chuckled weakly.

"It is time for your shower, Dean. This is not the first one that I've given you since you've been here."

"Really? I have a shit memory right now, Cas. I have no idea how long we've been doing this. It's all a big blur."

The more that Dean spoke, he could see a guilty look dawn on Castiel's face.

"You...we have had this conversation before, actually. You have been here for just over a month, Dean."

"HOLY SHIT! Are you serious?!" How had he not noticed how much time had passed? Are they putting something in his food? Or is it all of the blood loss that's making things difficult?

"I'm afraid so."

"FUCK. I need to make it back in time to see my niece, Cas! You have to get me outta here, please!"

"I am doing everything I can, Dean. It's not as easy as we want it to be, but rest assured that you will be leaving here the moment that I know that I can ensure you will make it home in one piece. Now, stand under the spray as I clean you off."

There was a silence that filled the room after Castiel stopped speaking. In that silence, Castiel felt himself getting emotional over the situation he had gotten Dean into out of his own selfishness. The sniffling didn't escape Dean for long.

"Shh, baby, it's ok. I'm not blaming you for any of this. If this is anyone's fault, it's mine, ok?"

Castiel shook his head. "No, I-" the assassin stopped before finishing his sentence because there was someone making his way into the door. Dean had never seen anyone change their facial expression that quick in his life, and he would have made more of an effort to outwardly show it had he not been so weak already from the day's activities.

"Why are you not at your station?!" Castiel growled.

"I-uh-um...Crowley is becoming suspicious of the effect your scramblers are having on the cameras and he almost caught Sarah while she was walking along your usual route."

"And you coming in here is helping how exactly?! Isn't this making it more obvious?!"

"I-I already tried communicating with you, but it didn't go through. I didn't know what else to do..." the man scrambled to say.

Castiel tensed further and further as he processed the news. If his subordinate was unable to reach him then there ran the possibility that Crowley may be trying to reach him as well, finding himself unable to which might result in his coming to check on Dean. Once more, Castiel realizes, indulging in selfishness was going to harm Dean. He was trembling with anger when he spoke next.

"Just get out!" Castiel roared.

The man stood in shock at his superior's outburst which did nothing for Castiel's temper. When he started to move towards the man, Dean took it upon himself to act as a balm toward his lover.

"Shh, baby, it's fine. You don't have to take it out on him, ok?" Dean spoke soothingly in Castiel's ear. He then turned towards the subordinate and said, "Hey, man. Thanks for the heads up, but we're a little busy, ok? Just do what you have to do to buy us a couple minutes, alright?" The man's eyes softened a little as he nodded and stepped out of the door. "See? That wasn't so hard to do, huh? So what if Crowley walks in right now? We'll cross that bridge when we get to it. Now, help me finish getting washed off, and you can mack on me for a minute before ya go. Sound like a deal?"

The assassin could only slowly nod in response. He was still beating himself up mentally when he was helping Dean sit back on his chair and tying him to it once more. When Castiel turned to give Dean what was meant to be a chaste kiss before leaving, he could feel the tension that had been building over the past month start to dissipate with each press of lips.

"I don't think I'll be able to risk doing this for you anymore. You're going to have to deal with Sarah until I can get you out of here, beloved," Castiel spoke sadly.

"That's ok, sweetheart," Dean smiled. "I get to see you everyday regardless, and that's all I need."

"You are oddly optimistic for a prisoner, Dean."

"Eh, what can I say? This ain't my first rodeo," Dean winked.

xvx

One day, after what feels like decades of being at Crowley's complex, Dean watches as Castiel walks into the room and can immediately tell that something is going to be different about today.

The assassin clears his throat and begins with the usual...but not with the same gusto as every other time. After what seems as hour, Castiel speaks hardly above a whisper.

"I have arranged for your escape today. People from your agency will be gathering you an hour after you've been cleaned up for the day." The words hardly register in Dean's mind at first, but what does is Castiel's excitement. Dean couldn't keep the smile off his face even if he tried.

"Thanks, baby. You didn't have to do all that for little ol' me." Dean smirked. The smirk falters at the sudden anger present on Castiel's face.

"Yes. I. Did. How can a man with such confidence be so self-deprecating? Can't you see that you are worth saving? I hope to one day eradicate such behavior from you."

"Is that your way of sayin' that you're stickin' around, sweetheart?" Dean chuckled. He couldn't deny the flutter in his heart at the thought of waking up next to this man for years to come.

"If...if you would have me, Dean, I would "stick around" as you say, until the day you no longer want me to."

"Well, get ready for the long haul, baby," whispered Dean as he flashed a quick smile. "Now, get back to business before someone suspects what we're doin' here. And don't you dare apologize. When we get home, just love on me 'til we're both tired of it: that's the only apology I will accept from you."

It took a minute to get into the right head space, but the next few hours were a blur of routine.

xvx

Just when Dean was starting to give up hope about being rescued, he heard it. The subtle scuffle of shoes right outside his room. He felt his heart speed up as it all started to sink in: he was going home. Dean couldn't stop the tears of relief when he saw Bobby, Benny, and Balthazar tip toe into the room.

"Balls. Hell, look at what he did to the kid!" he heard Bobby exclaim.

"He didn't have a choice, remember, sir?" Balthazar reminded his superior.

"Let's get him outta here, boys. We ain't got much time. Castiel is going to meet us at the side gate."

The last thing Dean remembered hearing before he passed out, was Bobby cursing Crowley to high hell.

xvx

When Dean came to, he was back in the infirmary at his agency's building. The sheer amount of relief that flooded his system was enough to send him right back into a deep slumber just as he saw his favorite nurse, Charlie running towards him.

A few hours later, he was awakened by Bobby yelling and cursing somewhere right outside the infirmary.

"Someone tell that crotchety old bastard to shut the hell up, he'll wake the dead if he keeps that up," said Dean as he tried to sit up. "Hey, Char. How long have I been out?" inquired Dean as the nurse came forward to check on his vitals.

"Oh, about 4 days. How are you feeling, dude?" Dean could see from Charlie's smile alone that there was something wrong.

As he answered that he was thirsty, he wiggled his fingers and toes to make sure that he hadn't lost a limb or something. He hadn't been worried about contracting anything while at Crowley's because he trusted Castiel to make sure that his wounds were being taken care of. As soon as he finished taking inventory of his limbs, and drinking from the glass that was handed to him, he turned to Charlie and gave her a glare that he knew she would never lie to.

"What's wrong, Charlie? Why is Bobby yelling like a mad man? Where's Cas?" Upon asking about Castiel's whereabouts, Dean looked about the infirmary to see if perhaps Castiel had been injured in their escape. When he saw that his bed was the only one that was occupied, Dean once more turned to Charlie who has since turned as white as the sheets gathered about Dean's body. "Charlie. Tell. Me."

The red head stopped what she was doing to close her eyes and bite her lip in nervousness. "I-I can't tell you right now, Dean. Who knows what the stress will do to you?"

"Fuck that, Charlie! Where's Cas?!" Dean yelled. The first thing that popped into his mind was that Castiel never made it out of the complex because he died rescuing Dean, and that thought made his heart constrict. Castiel should have never risked himself to begin with. Had Dean listened to him back at that hotel, maybe things would be different. Dean gripped the sheets tighter and tighter until Charlie finally answered.

"He-he didn't make it out-" she stammered.

"FUCK!" Dean exclaimed. "I fucking it knew it! When I get outta here, I'm going to wring that bas-"

"He's not dead, Dean," Charlie said as she held his hand.

"Then why isn't he here?!" asked Dean frantically.

"That's enough, Charlie. Why don't you wait outside for a minute while I talk to Dean?" Patient and Nurse turned at the sound of Bobby's voice. As Dean really looked at his boss' face, all he could think was that Bobby looked as if he had aged about 5 years since the last time they'd seen each other. Charlie gave Dean's hand one last reassuring squeeze before she quietly left the room.

Bobby heaved a great sigh as he plopped onto one of the chairs next to Dean's bed.

"Look, son. There's some shit I gotta tell you that I wish could wait until you're all better, but I know that keeping this from you now...it just won't do any good for it to stay a secret. It's uh-it's Sam, Dean. Jess reported him missing right about the time that we got you outta Crowley's." The silence that followed Bobby's statement was crushing. The only reason that Dean was silent was that he was in shock.

"What do you mean, Bobby? What's happened?" Dean's voice cracked as he asked, feeling tears gather. This can't be happening. Not only is his lover out for the count, so is his brother. The agency is supposed to keep tabs on family members so that agents don't have to stress about their safety! Someone didn't do their job right, and Dean was going to find out and make them pay.

"Castiel was on his way to the rendez-vous when he overheard Crowley on the phone. Sam was taken because Crowley was going to use him to torture you. The idgit stayed behind so that he could gather all the intel he could so that we could find Sam. Crowley knows he has a mole so it's getting harder and harder for him to convey stuff to us, but he hasn't been put on Crowley's shit list yet because he thinks that he has Castiel's loyalty still."

Dean hadn't even realized that he's been crying until a tear hits one of the fists gathered in his lap. He looks down and watches as it travels down the back of his hand until it rolls onto the sheet. "Where's Jess? Is she here? Has she had the baby yet? Can I see her?"

"Yeah, she's here. We've got an OB/GYN here just for her. This much stress towards the end of a pregnancy is never good. I'll have someone bring her in when I leave."

The spy breathes out heavily and drops his head back onto the pillow. He makes a promise right then and there to Sam that if something happens to his little brother, he would step up and be the father that Sam might not get the chance to be. He would take care of Jess and Mary until he breathes his last on this earth. Nothing but the best for them.

"We, uh, we have people 'round the clock looking for Sam, son. We'll find him soon."

"I want to be there when they get him, Bobby. I don't care what the hell I have to do, I want to be the first face he sees when we find him, you got me? You owe me that."

Bobby sighed and nodded in defeat. "I won't argue there, son."

"Can you have Charlie come back in here? Have her bring Jess."

As soon as Bobby stepped out of the room, Dean steadied his breathing to calm himself. There was no need to cause Jess anymore stress than she was already feeling right now. By the time the two women walk in the room, Dean found that he could at least smile a little.

"Hey, there, gorgeous. You look more and more beautiful every time I look at you."

"Quit smooth talkin' me, you big flirt," she smiled sadly.

It went unsaid that neither would mention the missing Sasquatch in the room.

"You look about ready to pop, Jess. How long have I been gone?" "She's due in a few days, Dean. You've been gone almost two months," answered Jess as she rubbed absentmindedly at her stomach. There was an immediate silence as Charlie continued checking Dean's wounds. As the silence stretched on, Dean could feel an anger pulsing from the blond beside him. "I need you to find him, Dean. My baby girl needs her Daddy."

The green-eyed man reached to grab his sister-in-law's hand and gave it a squeeze until she met his eyes. "I'm going to find him, Jess, no matter what. Don't you worry about a thing, sweetheart. You just stay here and I'll take care of everything. Charlie," Dean turned towards his nurse. "Can you see about getting me out of here? Today."

"Yes, of course."

"Tell somebody to get my car ready, I've got to head to my apartment for something." There has been a nagging feeling about going home in the back of his mind since the moment he woke up. He can't recall just what it is, he just know's he needs to go home. He will know it when he sees it, he rationalizes.

The next hour is a scramble to get all the right paperwork signed for Dean's release from the infirmary. On his way to his apartment, Dean can feel his nerves calming the moment he gets behind the wheel of his baby. The twenty minute drive goes by in a blur of traffic. It felt as if he blinked and suddenly he was stepping into his living room.

The first thing he does after he puts down his keys is look through his mail, nearly two month's worth. When nothing clicks, he continues to his dining room and kitchen. Nothing out of the ordinary. However, when he steps towards his bedroom, he notices a very familiar blue tie hanging from the door knob.

The spy makes his way down the hall into the bedroom and takes a look at everything inside. At first glance, everything is the same. However, upon closer inspection, he sees that although his phone is still sitting in the same position he left it in, it is now facing with the screen facing up rather than down as was his habit. Dean immediately ran over to the phone and unlocked it to see a new application on the home screen. It was conspicuously named "Angel of Thursday" and looked like some sort of MMORPG that he would have never downloaded. As he hovers his thumb above the screen, he remembers something that Castiel had told him. Something about there being a secret way for them to communicate via his phone. This had to be it. Without a second thought, he pressed down on the app. As soon as he did, his phone's camera shot out a green laser that then scanned his face and proceeded to then make a phone call. It rang three times before he heard the voice he'd been waiting for.

"Oh, thank God, Dean. Listen, I don't have much time. I found Sam. He is in Lawrence, Kansas, in a storage facility not far from his house. Tell me once you've found him, I will see you as soon as I can. Good luck."

"Wait! Wait, Cas! Jesus! Just- be careful, ok? I don't want to lose you either."

"Fret not, beloved. You needn't worry for me. Contact me once you have found your brother."

"Why? What're you going to do?"

"I am going to personally deliver Crowley to the depths of Hell into the arms of Lucifer himself where he will then rot for eternity. No one is to ever harm you or your family again, Dean, and live to tell the tale for very long."

"F-fuck-" _that's hot_ , Dean thinks to himself. This is definitely the wrong time to be having such thoughts. Sam was right when he'd told Dean that he was always confusing reality with porn.

"I cannot express to you how worried I've been the past four days, Dean, but I will see you soon, beloved. Goodbye."

"Bye, sweetheart."

As soon as Dean got off the phone with Castiel he immediately called Bobby and relayed the information he had just received. Locking his apartment, Dean raced his way back to the agency so that he could meet with the team that would be sent to retrieve Sam from Crowley's clutches.

xvx

As the team suited up, Dean couldn't help but let his brain wander. What would compel Crowley to keep Sam in the US when it would benefit him more to move him to the UK to his private grounds? There, he could spend hours upon hours doing whatever he wanted to Sam and it would take much longer for him to be rescued thus increasing the amount of time spent torturing him. This had to be some kind of trap, whether it was for Castiel or himself he would never know. After relaying his thoughts to Bobby, he couldn't help but get a sick feeling in his stomach.

His only wish besides praying that Sam was still alive, was that Crowley didn't suspect Castiel.

The ride to Lawrence was more nerve wracking than normal. The unmarked SUV was tense and quiet as all the men got into the mindset needed to carry out a rescue mission. The dark was going to be their best cover. It was just passing nine in the evening as they entered Lawrence. As Dean sat in that silence, he resolved himself to punching Bobby square in the jaw the moment he gets his brother safe in his arms. No need to piss him off yet, after all. There needs to be better security detail on the family members of agents, and Dean will personally make sure of that.

Once on the ground, the men gathered recon on the area that Sam is supposedly being held. When Dean turns the corner to the storage complex he suddenly wished that Castiel could have told them which unit Sam was being held in because it was a huge facility.

"Someone get me a map of this place. Pronto!" Dean yells. The eldest Winchester closes his eyes and tries to reflect on all the encounters he'd had with Crowley while he was gone. The guy wasn't an idiot, that's for sure. Clue number one would be the fact that he has Castiel for an employee. Clue number two would be that he has the gall and intelligence to try and upset the precarious balance in the middle east. Taking into consideration just those two facts, Dean knows that he will be looking for any units that are secluded and separate from the rest. Crowley would want to make sure that any noises Sam might make are not going to be heard.

"Here, sir."

Without responding to his subordinate, Dean turns his flashlight towards the map and immediately spots three units that are on the southern corner of the facility that would be perfect for the Scottish crime lord's use.

"Alright, see here? That's where he's got to be holding my brother. Someone grab the bolt cutters and meet everyone in front of the door.

Dean couldn't stop the shaking of his hands as they stood in front of the middle unit. Giving a nod to the man holding the bolt cutters, Dean lifted his gun to point in the center of the unit. As the door was lifted up, Dean could see there was a chair in the middle of the empty room. No Sam in sight. However, in place of Sam on the chair there was a sign that read: "Haha, Dean! Did you think it would really be that easy?"

If the green eyed man thought that his heart was beating fast before, it must be pounding its way out of his chest at this moment. All ten men present turned towards Dean with concerned-filled, confused looks.

"Op-Open the one on the right," he spoke with a quake to his voice.

In that unit, they were met with a similar scene and a sign that read: "Really? Desperate are we?"

Dean couldn't even deny the tears that were running down his face at the moment that he yelled for his men to open up the last unit. He couldn't lose it, yet. He had to keep it together, Sam had to be there. As his men opened the last unit he was met with the one sight that could have been worse than finding his brother dead. There was a TV on a raggedy table with a remote in front of it.

With shaking hands, Dean pressed the power button to the TV. When the pictured cleared, Dean couldn't stop the gasp and small cry that escaped his mouth.

"There you are, Dean. I was beginning to think that you would be a no show, and I have such a tight schedule to keep, you know," came the voice of the smarmy Scottish man. As he spoke, Crowley moved closer and closer to the man he had tied to a chair with duct tape over his mouth. "I'll admit this was all a bit melodramatic, but I do love the theater," Crowley smirked.

"Not who you were expecting, huh, Dean? Where is little brother you ask? Why is Castiel in his place? Now, that is the question of the century, isn't it Dean Wincester. Castiel here is aware of the codependent love you have for your brother, and he so graciously took little Moose's place for his execution."

"Execution?! Where's my brother, asshat?!" Th American spy has no idea how he's supposed to act in the situation. All he knows is that his brother is almost out of danger and the man that has forced his way into Dean's heart is going to die. As he looks into those blue eyes he can see shame, and guilt, and determination. Just what that determination was for, Dean couldn't say. His best guess was that Castiel was determined not to look scared. If there was one thing that Dean had learned in the brief time that he got to know Castiel was that he was the kind of man that didn't like to be vulnerable with anyone but Dean.

"He is on his way to the US embassy here in Scotland as of 3 hours ago, thanks to your beloved here." Before Dean could deny what Crowley had just insinuated, the Scotsman interrupted him. "Don't patronize me, Dean. I would have to be deaf, blind, and dead to not see there's something between the pair of you, let alone all the evidence I have on my hard drive.

"Poor Castiel here was devastated when he saw that I had little Sammy bound, gagged, and ready to be shot. Poor idiot thought he fed you the right information, so he didn't intentionally lie to you, if you were wondering. The thing is, I knew that my best and brightest had betrayed me. I don't know how long he thought his missing sister was going to go unnoticed by me. I will hand it to you, Castiel, I have no idea where you've put her," he spat at the assassin. "Anyway, I staged that call he overheard because I knew he was listening. Sam was just arriving to my complex when you were leaving it, Dean.

"Now," continued Crowley. "As penance for his transgressions against his master, Castiel will be executed in T minus 30 seconds. If you have any last words, I suggest you say them now."

"C-Cas!" Dean yelled. At this point he was as close to the TV as he could get, clutching at the edge to ground himself. "F-fuck! I-I'm so sorry, baby! But why are you risking your life for someone you only met two months ago?! Why me, sweetheart?! What makes me special enough to die for?!"

"Oh, that is rich!" Crowley laughed. He turned to face Castiel's glare and smiled wider at the anger spilling off of his captive. "He doesn't remember the first time you two met? How pathetic, Castiel!" Crowley teased. Pulling a gun from his coat, and taking off the safety, Crowley met Castiel's glare once more before placing the end of the gun to Castiel's forehead. "Now, darling, I think Dean might want to look into those baby blues one last time before he sees a bullet go through them. Do him that favor at least." Pulling off the tape from Castiel's lips he adds, "Last words, love. Make them count."

The assassin turned towards the camera and took in a shaky breath before he licked his bottom lip and spoke. "I know I was in your life for such a brief moment, but you have been such a large part of mine for much longer than two months. I'm sorry for being another burden you must now carry. I love you. Please, forgive me," Castiel pleaded softly.

"No," Dean whispered. "No! No, Crowley! Me! Take me! It was me that fucked up your plans in Syria!" Dean yelled desperately.

"Ah-ah, Dean. You might have disabled the bomb, but Cassie here was the one that tampered with it to begin with. He is getting what he deserves. No amount of pleading and self-sacrificing is going to change the fact that your lover is going to meet his end."

Dean's breath caught in his throat as Crowley cocked the gun. Just as the crime lord was beginning to pull the trigger, Dean saw as the ropes binding Castiel fell from him. The assassin quickly stood from his chair and used it to hit the man in front of him. Pieces of the chair flew everywhere and caused the camera to fall to the ground. Right before the signal was lost, there was the unmistakable sound of a gun shot.

Absolute silence greeted Dean's ears right after that sound. In shock, Dean sat clutching the TV for an undetermined amount of time before one of his men gently shook his shoulder. "Sir? Agent Winchester? Are-are you ok?" the young man asked in a soft voice.

With wide eyes, Dean turned to the agent that spoke to him. "I didn't get to tell him."

"Tell him what, sir?" the young agent inquired.

 _That I love him, too_.

xvx

The journey home was all a blur. Dean hardly registers anything that happens around him. He knows that someone told Bobby what happened and to have someone at the Scottish embassy waiting for Sam. The next time that Dean is fully conscious of what is happening to him, he is back in the infirmary being looked over by Charlie once more while being held by Jess. He lays his head and a hand over her stomach as she runs her fingers through his hair soothingly and she softly hums a lullaby to him. It was at that moment that Dean allowed himself to finally break down.

He cried for the almost loss of his brother, for the loss of Castiel, but most of all...he cried for himself. He knew then that there would never be another person like Castiel, and he couldn't help but picture the rest of his life as empty. He hadn't realized that his existence up until this point had been lacking in meaningful relationships, but after having met Castiel and losing him...Dean knew that he wasn't going to try again.

Not once did Jess say a word to him as he lay there sobbing his heart out, and it was just as well because what does one say to a person that has just had his heart torn out from his body and trampled on? So she did what she knew he needed and consoled the man she saw as her brother until his choked sobs turned into snores. With Charlie's help, Jess was able to lay Dean down properly, and even then she didn't leave his side until she felt a sharp pain in her abdomen a few hours later waking him and Charlie.

"The baby! She's coming!"

xvx

Dean was at Jessica's side holding her hand and soothing her as best he could when an agent came into the room to inform him that Sam was on his way from the airport. In all the worry with the baby on her way, Dean hadn't realized that enough time had passed for Sam to almost be here in time to see his daughter be born. With a weak smile, he turned to his sister-in-law to gently rub at her stomach and said, "Daddy's gonna be here soon, sweetheart. Let's wait for him, ok? Give daddy some time."

In what seemed like no time, Sam came crashing through the door. "Jess! Jess, I'm here!"

"Sam! I'm so glad you're safe, baby!" she smiled, reaching out a hand to him. Dean was not the only one that was thrown off by her calm demeanor. As soon as their hands were touching, her face went from sweet to menacing. "Now I can kick your ass for knocking me up and almost missing the birth of our child!"

"But-but, Jeeeeessss! I was kind of preoccupied, you know! Which I'm fine, by the way, thanks for asking. Ow that hurts!"

"Your hand has nothing on the pressure being exerted on my uterus right now, Sam! Fuck you! We are never having se-"

"Whoooaaaaaa-time for me to get out of here," exclaimed Dean. He threw his brother a smirk as he patted him on the back and left the couple to themselves until his niece was born.

For hours it seemed that he waited right outside the room where all he could hear was the occasional snippet of an expletive coming out of his sister-in-law's mouth.

Chuckling, Dean sat back and closed his eyes where he was then caught in a daydream of the time he had to get to know Castiel. In such a short time, his life had been changed forever, but he couldn't help but feel guilty that he still could not recall the time that Castiel says changed his own life.

The assassin is not someone that he would have forgotten on purpose. Castiel had said it was years ago, though.

Thinking hard, Dean could only guess that the only other time the two men had met would have been at the beginning of his career on one of his first missions. He was in England doing reconnaissance on Crowley who was just a little blip on their radar at the time. It was the only time that Dean could say he had a whole night missing from his memory. He remembers walking into a pub and ordering German beer, and everything goes blank after that. He remembers waking up the next morning to a horrendous headache and a sense of loss.

Sadly, nothing else comes to mind. Did they fool around that night? Dean may never find out.

Before Dean could get to wallow in sadness, however, his thoughts were interrupted by the ear splitting screech coming from the mouth of the person that would make his heart flutter for years to come. He waited anxiously by the door until his big little brother opened the door and he was met with equally teary eyes.

"Sam, she's beautiful," he whispered. "She's must take after her mother," he laughed.

"Shut up, jerk," Sam chuckled. "Do you want to hold her, _Uncle Dean?_ "

" _God_ , yes! Hand her to me." Dean held out shaky hands to his brother who proceeded to lay his daughter in his brother's arms.

Dean vowed then and there as he stared into those blue-green depths that he would make the world a safer place for his niece and his family. It didn't matter what he had to do, he would make sure that people like Crowley were taken down and that the Castiels of this world were saved before it was too late.

The eldest Winchester hadn't realized that he was crying until Sam was holding him tight. "Dean, I'm so sorry about Castiel. He wanted me to tell you that he will see you as soon as he took down Crowley."

"Crowley killed him, Sam," Dean uttered in bitterness.

"Oh God! Are-hold on one second." Sam grabbed Mary from Dean's arms and took her to her mother before kissing his wife, whispering to her, and returning to his brother. "How do you know that Crowley killed him, Dean?"

"Because there was a video, Sam. That bag o' dicks was going to execute him on camera for me to watch! Cas got out of the ropes, hit Crowley with his chair, but something knocked the camera over and the last thing I could see was their legs. I heard a gun shot before the feed dropped."

"So, there's still a possibility that he might have made it out?" said Sam after thinking for a moment.

"Sam. Don't," pleaded Dean as he shook his head.

"Don't what?"

"I don't want to get my hopes up just so they can be crushed even further when we find out a day or two from now that Cas is gone, ok? I don't think my heart could go through that twice."

The elder brother glared at his brother's pitying look away before congratulating him on his baby's birth. After talking about what happened to Sam at Crowley's, the brothers had a much needed moment for Sam to cope. An hour after their talk, Dean walked out of the agency and to his car. Once behind the wheel of his own baby, Dean contemplated whether or not it would be too late to go to a bar. He decided against it for a few reasons: one, his niece had just been born and he'd rather keep the memory, and two, it was five in the morning. With a sigh, Dean drove to his apartment where he dragged himself to take a quick shower and then headed off to bed.

xvx

It wasn't any easier trying to forget Castiel even after 6 months. It seemed as if Crowley's empire had crumbled and Dean figured Crowley was too injured to run his schemes for a while. He gave it another year before Crowley was running things again.

In certain aspects of his life, Dean was doing wonderfully. His relationship with Sam was it's height, Jess was making sure he was eating by coming over to his apartment every day he didn't spend at their house with leftovers from their meals. She would bring Dean's little ray of sunshine with her, and he would forget to mourn Castiel for a few hours longer.

Dean was becoming a better agent at work as well. He didn't dillydally anymore than he needed to, and he became as ruthless as he had pretended to be before. He was finishing missions faster than they could give them to him, and he was getting a promotion soon if Bobby's hints were to mean anything. In fact, he's pretty sure that Bobby's gotten a little afraid of him recently. There's no longer that sourpuss, grouchy old fart attitude with him anymore. In fact, Bobby was passing Dean knowledge that he'd never been privy to before. It was what had Dean thinking he would be getting his promotion in the first place.

Despite all the progress the agent had made so far, he was still having trouble functioning socially. He feels as though he might not forget Castiel, but he might be able to one day look past him, it would just be a matter of time.

After showering for the day, Dean made his way to the office. As soon as he stepped in, Dean could feel that something was different from the moment he sat at his desk. Things were tense and quiet. Usually that meant that Bobby was in a bad mood or something major was happening. Or both. Actually, always both.

Looking around at his co-workers, Dean grabbed that same young agent that had talked to him after the incident at the storage facility. "Hey, uh-"

"Samandriel, sir," he smiled.

"Ya got anything shorter than that, kid?"

"Um. Well, Alfie, sir." That's something this kid will have to explain on a later date because Dean doesn't have the time nor the patience to suss that name out right now.

"Alfie, what's going on? Why's everyone on edge? Did Bobby blow up over something?"

Alfie looks around nervously before nodding. "Yes, we aren't sure what it is, but we aren't too keen to find out what it is ourselves. Do you think you c-coul-I mean, you're his favorite and all..." he stammered.

"Alright, kid, I'll go see what's wrong with that ol', coot. Wish me luck."

"Good luck, sir," answered the innocent-looking agent.

Dean looked around at all the nervous-looking agents and just knew that he was in for something big. Maybe Crowley came back earlier than he thought? He took a breath in front of Bobby's door, knocked, and waited for the go ahead. When it came, he opened the door.

"Hey, Bobby, everybody's out there shittin' themselves, what's-" Dean found that he couldn't finish his question because when he looked up to meet his boss' face, he was met with a familiar pair of blue eyes instead. He hadn't realized his knees had given out until he found himself looking up at Castiel. Hands shaking uncontrollably, Dean reached forward. "C-Cas? Is-Are you real?" he whimpered pathetically.

"Yes, Dean. It's me. For real." _Fuck_. Castiel was doing _that_ smile. The one where he looked down and his lips would twitch a little, and then he'd look up through his lashes. Dean would sell his first born son for that smile.

"Where have you been? What's happened? Wh-"

"Now, hold your horses, boy! Castiel was just gettin' 'round to tellin' me what happened when you walked in here. What are you doing here on your day off, anyway?" Bobby asked sternly.

"It's my day off?" Dean asked having not taken his eyes off of Castiel.

"Yes, ya idgit. Get up off that floor, Dean. Sit down in the chair. And not the one that Castiel is already sitting on, either, the one next to him," Bobby teased.

"Yeah, ok," Dean answered softly. He found that he still couldn't keep his eyes off of the assassin even as he went to sit. Dean was vaguely aware that Bobby was trying to get Castiel's attention with great difficulty since the two younger men were currently undressing each other with their eyes.

"Good Lord Almighty, Dean. Get out of here. Now. We ain't gonna get nothin' done with you here. Go home! Cas was gonna go to your apartment as soon as he was done here, anyway. Go, before I fire your ass for the day."

"But-"

"Dean, go home," commanded Castiel in a tender voice.

"Yeah...ok," answered Dean dumbly once again. He's going to have to work on relearning the English language between now and the time that Castiel shows up at his apartment. Or...maybe not that soon since he doubts they will be doing much talking anyway. "There's just one thing I gotta say, Bobby, before I leave." Turning once more towards Castiel, Dean leaned in to give him a chaste kiss. When he pulled back to say what he had wanted to say 6 months ago, though, he found that he couldn't say them. Steeling himself, he took a breath to say, "I-I need you, too, Cas."

Dean saw those eyes widen in surprise before his mouth was being attacked with a kiss to end all kisses. "It's ok, beloved, I know what you want to say, don't worry." With a groan, he gave as good as he got until Bobby cleared his throat pointedly.

"Alright, alright. I'm gone. You better hurry up, sweetheart. Been waitin' long enough already."

"Yes. Of course, Dean," Castiel chuckled.

"You ain't gonna be cuttin' any corners here, son," Bobby threatened.

"I do not plan on cheating you of information, Bobby. We will be here for many hours, I can assure you. Now, goodbye, Dean. I will see you this afternoon. Have dessert ready."

"I'm not sure how much eatin' we're gonna get done, Cas."

"Oh, I could think of something I'd love to get my mouth on."

"-Christ almighty, you two-"

" _Fuck_ ," Dean shivered. "Bobby, you sure this can't wait 'til tomorrow?!"

"This is at my insistence, Dean," Castiel interjected on Bobby's behalf. "If I can get this done today, you and I can spend many hours of uninterrupted quality time before we need to resurface."

"Dammit! Did you have to be gorgeous AND logical? Fine! I'll see you later, baby. Bobby, I'll see you when I see you," Dean smirked.

"Yeah, yeah. Get outta here, you sap," Bobby teased with a rare smile on his face.

The moment that Dean stepped out onto the floor of cubicles, Dean was congratulated by his co workers. Alfie stepped out of the crowd to speak to Dean.

"You weren't supposed to come in today, you know! You ruined the surprise!" he teased.

"Wait- you all knew he was here?! Why didn't anyone tell me?!"

"Castiel called Bobby last week while you were away in Mexico taking care of that drug trafficking nightmare. He wanted it to be a secret that he was coming here, so Bobby made sure we knew to keep you distracted today. I had to improvise when I saw you walk in. There wasn't anyway to get you to go home without you suspecting anything."

"You-you guys! I don't know whether to shoot you or hug you all!" exclaimed Dean.

"How 'bout neither, brother. God, It's nice to see you smile again," came Benny's drawl from next to Dean. "Now, you should go home and freshen up because you look like you just rolled outta bed, man. That fine specimen in there won't want to be kept waitin' when he gets to your place. And, honestly, he looks starved," he teased.

"I was on my way out right now, dude!"

"Oh, and Dean," started Balthazar from curiously close to Benny. "Do take care of my cousin, would you? I've never seen him so care free as he is now, and I will not hesitate to shoot you should you muck it up."

The eldest Winchester took a moment to think about what he'd just learned before he was compelled to ask a million questions. Before he could even get one question out, Balthazar interrupted him.

"Ah-ah. Now is not the time to elaborate on such things, Dean. Don't come back until you two have fucked to the point of exhaustion. Then we can talk," Balthazar smiled.

"You assholes have some 'splainin' to do when we get back. God, I'm sick of all these secrets and shit," Dean mumbled as he walked out of the door.

xvx

As he drove home, Dean couldn't help the large smile that had fixated itself on his face. Just this morning he had settled for the idea that he would have to eventually move on from Castiel and here, not even an hour later, he wouldn't have to ever get over the assassin that forced his way into the spy's heart.

After pulling into his spot, Dean ran up to his apartment and cringed. He really had let it go recently. There was a pile of dirty dishes in the sink, a layer of dust everywhere, used clothes strewn on every surface...it was probably a good thing that he accidentally ruined his surprise. He would have been embarrassed to have Castiel walk into his apartment right now. Changing into sweats and a tee, Dean set about cleaning the apartment until everything in it sparkled. When he glanced at the clock when he was done, it read that it was just past three thirty in the afternoon. Castiel could be coming in at any moment. Panicking, Dean quickly grabbed a bite to eat and headed to shower.

Scrubbed to the point of godliness, he used the hot water to help himself relax because Lord knew he was going to need it. He lost track of time while humming to Metallica and thinking again to the past six months and just how out of character he'd been. In a way, he'd turned into Castiel in demeanor; no bull shitting, killing those that asked for it without mercy, etc. It must have been some sort of subconscious tactic to cope with the loss.

Deep in thought, he yelped out in a manly manner when he felt a mouth on the back of his neck and arms pulling him back to meet another body.

"Hello, Dean."

"Dammit, Cas! Gonna have to get you a damn bell or something! How the hell did you get in here without me hearing you?!"

Without turning around, he knew Castiel was giving him an incredulous look. "Dean, I am an assassin with only one failure under his belt. I think I should be able to sneak up on you when you're humming that loud." As Castiel spoke, he ran his hands all over the body of his favorite spy. "I missed you so much, Dean," he whispered.

"What took you so long to get back to me, baby?" Dean countered softly as he pet the arm sneaking its way around his abdomen.

There was a moment of silence that followed the question that set Dean on edge a little.

"What was the last thing you saw onscreen that day?" Castiel finally asked.

"When the camera fell over, all I could see was your legs. The last thing I heard before the signal was lost, was a gunshot. I kind of went numb after that until Jess went into labor a few hours later. I-I thought I'd never see you again, Cas," Dean sniffled.

The green eyed man allowed himself to be turned around into an embrace he didn't know he'd needed.

"I'm so sorry, beloved, for causing you all that pain, but I am here now. There is nothing to fear for any longer," Castiel spoke soothingly while rubbing a loving hand up and down his lover's spine.

"Cas?"

"Hm?"

"I changed my mind. Can we talk about this later? I'd much rather get to relearn you in another way right now," Dean spoke shakily. Going down that road was just going to kill the mood, and Dean really needed to forget the past six months in the best way possible.

"I will meet you in the bedroom in a moment. I just want to wash off quickly."

Dean nodded and gave the shorter man a chaste kiss before getting out to towel off. He didn't bother getting dressed because he didn't want anything to slow them down once they got started.

Stepping into his bedroom, Dean made sure that everything they would need was within reach. Not even two minutes later, he heard the shower shut off. His heart picked up speed as he anxiously awaited the man in the other room. The two men shared a chuckle when Castiel walked in naked as well.

"It seems you and I had the same idea."

"Sure seems like it, baby," Dean smirked. "Now, why don't you get on over here, sweetheart, so we can get started?"

"Hmmm," Castiel started with a look of contemplation while swaggering towards the bed. "If I recall correctly, Dean," he continued salaciously. "You much prefer when I am in charge."

"Y-yeah," gulped Dean nervously. He'd almost forgotten how amazing it felt to let go in this man's presence.

"That being said...I will start and do whatever I want when I want. No questions about it. Is that clear?"

"F-fuck yeah, baby."

"Good," Castiel smirked. "Hands and knees, beloved."

Dean hastily rushed to comply.

"Did you get dessert ready for me, Dean?" Castiel rumbled low causing Dean to moan in response. The assassin crawled forward until he could grab the two globes on display in front of him. He ran a confident hand up and down Dean's spine before he applied pressure towards his neck so that Dean's chest was now flush with the sheets. Spreading Dean's cheeks, Castiel ran a confident lick at his lover's twitching hole.

" _Mmmmm_ yeah, sweetheart, just like that _fuck_."

The sounds that Castiel garnered from Dean were enough to drive any man crazy with lust. Before long, Castiel was jabbing at his lover's entrance in a mimic of what he would soon be doing with his fingers and finally with his cock.

Dean had long been an incoherent mess of moans and whimpers. His focus was on the one place that Castiel was touching him that he didn't notice when the other man had grabbed the lube until he felt a finger take place of that sinful tongue.

"God, Dean. I've been thinking about doing this to you all day. Was worried that Bobby would notice the semi I'd had since the moment you left his office. Had to walk out of there making sure that no one could see what you do to me. I forgot how responsive you are to touch," he breathed.

"I _fuck right there_ haven't done any- _mmm_ anything since I thought I lost you. Didn't even touch myself," Dean admitted that last statement sheepishly. He groaned in frustration when Castiel ceased what he was doing with his fingers, and began trying to push back on them until Castiel used a hand to stop his movements.

"Do y-do you mean that I'm the last person to have touched you, Dean?" Castiel inquired incredulously.

The spy merely nodded as he was suddenly too embarrassed to speak his answer.

Castiel growled possessively as he started a vigorous pace with his digits. "Fuck, Dean, you have no idea what that means to me."

"Didn't even t-try," Dean elaborated. "Couldn't let anyone else touch me, Cas. Just the thought of anyone but you m-made me sick."

"I love you so much, Dean," Castiel groaned.

"How about you put actions to those words, huh?" Dean growled impatiently.

"It would be my pleasure, beloved."

Castiel removed his fingers none too gently and quickly lubed up his member. Bringing an arm around Dean's chest, Castiel pulled back until the spy's back was flush with his chest. He used his other hand to push into the tight heat of Dean's body.

Both men stilled as they once more grew accustomed to the feel of the other. Dean pulled Castiel in for a desperate kiss as they adjusted to the feel of knowing one another for the first time in 8 months.

"C'mon, Cas, I'm ready. Fuck me like you mean it."

"No, Dean. There will be no fucking today."

"Your dick up my ass is tellin' me otherwise," countered Dean with no small amount of snark in his tone.

Castiel angrily withdrew from his lover and turned him so that they faced each other. Castiel held down Dean's wrists on either side of his head and brought his face a mere six inches from the one below him. He could almost laugh at the anger rampant on Dean's face, if he wasn't so angry himself.

"What the fuck, Cas?!"

"Do you remember what you told me that last day you were at Crowley's? And do you remember what I promised?" the assassin growled.

Dean looked up at the shorter man, searching his memories until he found just what Castiel was looking for. He turned his gaze away and nodded sheepishly.

"Good. Now, I said there would be no fucking today, Dean. Another day perhaps we will do that, but _today_ we are starting by making love."

"Oh God. Do you have to say it like that?" Dean cringed. "

Yes, I do. Until the day I know that you realize you are deserving of much more than you give yourself credit for, that is what we will be calling this."

"Dammit."

Castiel chuckled before speaking once more. "Beg me nicely, Dean."

Dean bit his bottom lip in nervousness. He wants to do what Castiel has asked of him, but he doesn't know if he can do it using those words exactly. As the silence continues, he looks up into those blue depths and allows himself to get lost in them. He knows that Castiel has an endless amount of patience, but he wants to get this show on the road. Dean reaches a hesitant hand up to bring Castiel's lips to his own. Once met, he kisses with every ounce of love he wishes he could profess aloud. When the two men are out of breath, Dean pulls back gently and whispers, "Please, Cas. I need you-need this. I-"

"That will suffice for now, beloved," interrupted Castiel. Reverently, the blue eyed man spread his lover's legs until they were once more whole. Castiel kissed Dean as he allowed Dean the time needed to adjust to their coupling.

"Please, Cas."

Slowly, Castiel moved inside of the other man. Kissing and marking him so that Dean would be aware of what he means to Castiel. The two men lost track of the time they spent making love over and over that night.

xvx

The following morning Dean woke up to his phone blaring his alarm that he forgot to shut off. Cursing his forgetfulness, he reached towards the bedside table to his phone.

"Dean, turn that off before I shoot it."

"I'm getting it, don't worry."

Once the two men had settled back into a slumber, they were interrupted by a call from Bobby.

"Hey, Bobby," Dean groaned.

"Tell Bobby that if he wishes to retire from his career rather than die unexpectedly, he will call at a more suitable hour."

"Cas says-"

 _"I heard what that idgit said. I'll make it quick. Look, the higher-ups called and they wanted me to offer him to work for us with a clean slate. If he wants, he can come in later today and apply._ "

"Who is he going to get partnered with?" Running through everyone he knew at the agency, he couldn't think of one person that would be suitable enough to be partners with Castiel.

 _"You, dumb ass. Everyone else is scared shitless of him, and you're the only guy running around without back up_."

"Seriously?!"

Before Bobby could retaliate, the phone was being taken away.

"We will be there in a few hours, I will apply. Do not call again unless it is of dire importance. Goodbye." Castiel proceeded to toss the phone onto the bedside table as soon as he hung up.

"Oh, man. We are going to make one bad ass team, dude."

"Indeed," grumbled Castiel. "Now, go back to sleep."

"We're going to get tired of each other at some point, too," he thought out loud. That many hours together everyday could get annoying. But deep down he knows that it won't matter. They'll bicker like a married couple, ignore each other for an hour or two, and then come home together to do it all over again the next day. That thought put a large smile on his face.

"I'm getting the feeling now, actually."

Dean turned to face his lover and chuckled as he placed a chaste kiss on his forehead. Life was going to be good.

**Author's Note:**

> Good news! I have decided to write the same story from Castiel's POV (childhood and Dean's missing memory included) b/c having to give all the back story necessary for Castiel was going to make this thing a lot longer than I wanted it to be lol Hopefully it doesn't take me forever, but do anticipate quite a while before it comes out :) I'm also thinking of a few short companion fics as well, so follow me so that you get the updates!  
> For those of you following "You've Got to Hold On", I just wanted to let y'all know that I killed my lap top back in like the first week of May, and had to raise the money to get it fixed :( Now that I'm done writing this behemoth (that took me over a year to write), I will be working on YGtHO :)  
> This story was inspired by a John Mayer of this same name. It's honestly a really friggin' gorgeous song if I do say so myself, and I tried my best to give the story in his song justice here. Thanks for reading! Please leave a review to let me know if y'all are indeed interested in seeing more out of this AU :D Bye, y'all!


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